In 1991, the Japanese bubble economy collapsed. Unsustainable economic growth and rampant speculation eroded the financial structure and security of the previous decade. Due to an increased governmental emphasis on centralization, millions flooded into Tokyo. As land prices skyrocketed to the tens of thousands of dollars per square foot in downtown Tokyo, a euphoric sense of optimism pervaded investors. Low interest rate loans from banks were given out with small chances of being repaid. Many investors borrowed extremely heavily from banks in order to invest billions in the new companies and real estate properties. The Japanese government, concerned about the unsustainable bubble exploding in Japan, made the banks sharply increase their loan rates. As a consequence, the Nikkei stock index crashed, and the bubble essentially burst. There was no money to pay back the banks, who subsequently had to rely on the government to borrow heavily and bail them out. There was no real recovery from this bubble collapse for the following decade, often deemed the “Lost Decade”. The Nikkei stock index continued to steadily fall through the 90s and early 2000s. Trillions of dollars were wiped out when the real estate prices dropped to less than 1% of the pre-bubble prices. This economic collapse brought with it a host of social and cultural changes.

Kelly & White’s paper called “Students, Slackers, Singles, Seniors, and Strangers: Transforming a Family Nation” argues that these are the main categories of social unrest. Students lack the ability to get jobs, often failing to transition effectively from the educational system to the workplace. Many are forced into low-paying part time jobs, signifying the slackers. Young men and women are tending to stay single for longer. The rapidly growing percentage of the population that is older and not working is a

This publication was one of the most controversial pieces of neo-nationalist literature. Published in 1998

social drain on the economy. The large non-ethnic Japanese population that conflicts with the early nationalism of “ethnic homogeneity” undermines Japanese societies most basic beliefs. All of these types of people are demonized for not participating in the traditional sense of Japanese society. They are accused of not belonging to and perpetuating what made Japan great prior to the bubble. Seen as the reason for the collapse, they offer a view of why the Grand Narrative was lost. By failing to participate in the Japanese societies moral codes, they fail to participate in the “Grand Narrative” of Japan. Incidences such as the Miyazaki child murders, the Kogal girl scandal, and many other highly publicized moral collapses show that the Grand Narrative was seemingly lost.

The textbook controversy was a neo-nationalist propagated change to certain history textbooks in regard to World War II. It cast Japanese aggression in a more positive light, white washing many of the casualties. Certain events such as the Nanjing Massacre were described with questionably factual material. The neo-nationalist sentiments have gained much ground in recent years. Authors such as Kobayshi Yoshinori published entire volumes on the “truth” of the war. Most importantly, these books were aimed at younger generations of people. The same scapegoats that fueled media attacks on the loss of Japanese values were the targets of the neo-nationalist literature. The growth of these neo-nationalist youth movements represents a return to the Grand Narrative. However it is important to recognize that the Grand Narrative being supported by the neo-nationalists today is much more analogous to the pre-World War II Japanese sentiments of racial superiority rather than the

Translation: Peace. A festering peace. Nobody knows the true nature of peace

economic bubble Grand Narrative of hard work and national pride.

1. Do you think the premise of the paper is strong? Can Azuma’s Grand Narrative actually be applied to this economic bubble collapse?

2. Why was it that the neo-nationalist movement was so attractive to young people? Does it seem like people still yearn for some sort of Grand Narrative?

3. Where does this posting fit on the website? Is it a single topic, or more of a synthesis of several topics?

4. At what point does Azuma’s Grand Narrative model stop working? Does it truly capture the nature of Japanese society?

Sources:

Azuma, Hiroki. Otaku: Japan’s Database Animals. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2001.

Brinton, Mary C.. Lost in Transition: Youth, Work, and Instability in Postindustrial Japan. New York City: Cambridge University Press, 2011.

Kelly, William, and Merry White. “Students, Slackers, Singles, Seniors, and Strangers: Transforming a Family-Nation.” In Beyond Japan: The Dynamics of East Asian Regionalism. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006. 63-84.

Mitani, Hiroshi. “The History Textbook Issue in Japan and East Asia.” In East Asia’s Haunted Present. Westport: Library of Congress, 2008. 83-93.

SHINee is one of the most popular Korean boy groups. But what is it that makes them so appealing?

While Japan has often been thought of as an Asian cultural superpower — with its trendy fashion, tech-savvy devices, and irresistible anime — another Asian wave of culture is steadily encroaching upon Japan’s established ‘coolness’: the Korean wave. Also called hallyu, the Korean wave is a term used to describe the tsunami of South Korean entertainment and culture that began flooding Asia starting from the 1990s, and now recently into Western parts of the world. The Korean wave includes Korean TV dramas, films, and pop music, which is known across the globe as ‘K-Pop.’ These cultural products have become staples in Asian markets formerly dominated by Japan and Hong Kong.

The Korean government has promoted hallyu, using it as a form of soft power, a term American political scientist Joseph Nye calls the ability for a country to attract rather than coerce another country as a means of persuasion. The Korean Foundation was established in 1991, a cultural tool that was formed much more recently than The Japan Foundation in 1972. In addition to the Foundation, the Korean government has also created the Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism, as well as the Presidential Council on National Branding, which aims to promote Korea’s global image, to right its misconceptions about Korea, its culture, products, and people, and to raise respect to support Korean business and nationals abroad.

Famous American artist MC Hammer poses with PSY at the American Music Awards.

Though the Korean government has taken extraordinary measures to encourage its students to travel abroad, this article aims to focus on K-pop and its effectiveness in the West. Korean pop music is a blend not just of Western and traditional, but of new and old. The music features catchy urban beats, easy dance moves, and lyric hooks that are often sung in English. Neither the boys’ nor girl groups’ lyrics or music videos generally refer to overt sex, drinking, or clubbing — which are usually the most popular themes in Western music. From PSY’s kooky horse gestures to Girl’s Generation’s sleek and slender legs, how exactly did the K-Wave become so big in such a small amount of time? Part of the answer lies within Japan’s globalizing methods.

J-Cool’s Globalizing Methods

K-Pop’s sudden craze in the West isn’t anything new. Koichi Iwabuchi’s Recentering Globalization capitalizes on the decentering of Western influence and the dispersion of non-Western influences that are progressively gaining more global influence — specifically Japanese ‘J-Cool’ since the burst of the bubble economy. This transnational model highlights ideas that culture is not limited to a national framework, does not flow in only one direction, and transnational cultural flows do not displace a nation’s established boundaries, thoughts, or feelings. In the case of Japan, Iwabuchi argues that Japan has little to no cultural presence in the goods it exports to other nations. Japanese products, he claims, are ‘culturally odorless’ (mukokuseki), as they do not contain many traces of Japanese cultural features within them and instead these features are erased or softened.

Iwabuchi’s theories of transculturation and odorlessness can be exemplified through Japanese music companies and the ways in which they dominated the Asian music industry. In the early 1990s, Japanese music industry aimed less to promote its Japanese musicians in the East and Southeast Asian markets; rather, the industry sought out indigenous pop stars who could then be sold to pan-Asian markets with Japanese pop production knowledge. In other words, the Japanese music industries took a back-stage role, and did not overtly promote its own Japanese artists across Asia. Instead of a Japanese band or musician, a non-Japanese artist was found and promoted across pan-Asian countries who could connect more to other Asian nations than Japan itself.

A CD cover for Shanghai Performance Doll.

An example of this can be seen through spin-off groups of popular J-Pop groups in Japan, where the spin-off group members were non-Japanese. A group called “Shanghai Performance Doll,” for example, was a secondary group to Japan’s J-Pop girl group “Tokyo Performance Doll.” Shanghai’s mandarin-speaking group was immensely popular in China, while Japan had its own original Japanese group.

In all, Japan has established itself as a cultural superpower not only in Asia, but also in the West. Using its capital, its management know-how, and its marketing strategies, Japan had taken a dominant marketing role rather than the stage role in the music industry. By using indigenous Asians as their stars, Japan’s cultural presence seemed almost ‘odorless’ and invisible. However, while Japan sits on a formidable reserve of soft power, Korea’s music industries have built off of Japan’s methods, and have now perfected the process.

How K-Pop has Perfected Japan’s Methods

Jessica was born and raised in California, and eventually recruited to be part of Girl’s Generation.

While Japan had searched for non-Japanese stars, Korea is different in that it specifically scouts for singers of Korean origin. This, in effect, makes K-Pop far from being deemed culturally odorless. Three music agencies dominate the K-pop industry: S.M. Entertainment is the largest, followed by J.Y.P. Entertainment and Y.G. Entertainment. The agencies act as manager, agent, and promoter, controlling every aspect of an idol’s career: record sales, concerts, publishing, endorsements, and TV appearances. The agencies recruit twelve to nineteen year olds from around the world, through both open auditions and a network of scouts – though contestants who are of Korean origin and can speak Native English or Chinese are highly prized and preferred. In addition to singing and dancing, the idols study acting and three main languages: Japanese, Chinese, and English. Though on average, only one in ten trainees make it all the way to a debut.

Lee Soo-man, S.M. Entertainment’s founder, is known as K-pop’s constructor. Lee retired as the agency’s C.E.O. in 2010, but he still takes a hand in forming the trainees into idol groups, including S.M.’s newest one, EXO. The group consists of twelve boys, where six are Korean members who make up “EXO-K,” and the other six is a mixture of ethnically Chinese members or Korean boys who can speak Chinese that make up “EXO-M.” The two subgroups release songs at the same time in their respective countries and languages, and promote them simultaneously, thereby achieving “perfect localization,” as Lee calls it. An example of this can be seen in EXO-K and EXO-M’s release of their first single, ‘Mama,’ which attempts to sell the groups as boys who are gifted with supernatural abilities. In reference to promoting EXO-M, a group that is not all ethnically Korean, Lee adds:

 “It may be a Chinese artist or a Chinese company, but what matters in the end is the fact that it was made by [Korea’s] cultural technology. S.M. Entertainment and I see culture as a type of technology. But cultural technology is much more exquisite and complex than information technology.” — Lee Soo-man

S.M. Entertainment and other Korean music industries draw from Japan’s technique of creating spin-off groups containing members who are not of their national origin. They establish the Japanese idea of working behind the scenes when it comes to controlling the marketing and exporting techniques of the non-Korean group. However, while the idols sing in Japanese and Chinese, the sounds, style of the music, and videos adhere to Korean principles that had made them popular in Korea.

Members of boy group INFINITE practice their positions and gestures in a dance studio.

K-Pop companies further their success through manuals. In S.M.’s case, Lee produced a manual of cultural technology, abbreviated as “C.T.,” where he catalogues the steps necessary to popularize K-pop artists in different Asian countries. The manual, which all S.M. recruiters are instructed to learn, explains the camera angles to be used in the music videos, when to bring in foreign composers, producers, and choreographers, as well as the minute specifics, such as the precise color of eye shadow a performer should wear in a particular country and the exact hand gestures he or she should make. S.M.’s stars are made and perfected into idols according to a sophisticated system of artistic development.

Thus, K-Pop has been able to tap into Japan’s globalized music efforts and perfect them. They are so perfect, in fact, that Western artists are recognizing K-Pop’s prestige, like American artist will.i.am who collaborated with Y.G. Entertainment’s English-speaking girl group 2NE1. Even Nicki Minaj is inspired by 2NE1, to the point that some of her music videos contain Korean influences.

Click here to view the embedded video.

K-Pop Using Anime Fan Communities As A Start?

The members of VIXX. Starting from top left: Hyuk, Hongbin, Ken, Ravi, Leo, and N.

A large quantity of Japanese soft power derives from anime and manga — and lately, K-Pop groups are starting to tap into Western fan communities of Japanese culture. One recent example of this was at Otakon 2012, one of the bigger anime conventions held on the East Coast of the US. A rising K-Pop group called VIXX (which stands for Voice, Visual, Value in Excelsis) made their first Western debut in America at the convention, with concert, autograph sessions, Q&A, and all. The group was formed much like One Direction had been on Britain’s X Factor: they were formed by the judges, and then deemed the favorite group by the audience who voted for them in a popular Korean star-search show called My Dol.

VIXX even seems to portray itself as a group that comes out of a videogame, as seen in their latest music video, ‘Rock Ur Body.’

Click here to view the embedded video.

The group also has a video blog and video diary series on YouTube called VIXX TV, where fans can be updated of where the K-Pop members are, as well as see what they do on a daily life schedule. By having gorgeous faces and bodies, and by giving fans the ability to track their personal lives as a star, K-Pop groups almost seem as if they are fictional characters themselves from a pop idol anime — the only difference being that they are actually real, and in the flesh.

Who Is the Dominant Asian Cultural Superpower Now?

Though Japan has gained prestige as a cultural superpower in both Asia and the West, Korea seems to be catching up through its music industry. While Japan created a basic formula for dominating the music industry in Asia using mukokuseki, Korean pop companies have perfected Japan’s methods and have even popularized Korean music not only in Asia, but in the West as well. This brings one to speculate as to whether or not the K-Wave has the potential to take Japan’s place as the dominant Asian cultural power.

QUESTIONS

⑴ Could Korea’s effectiveness in the Western markets and in Asia be because of Japan’s ‘imperialistic’ history over Asian countries, and how Asia has harsh criticisms of Japan’s history?

⑵ Is there an overlap between K-Pop and Japanese anime/manga? Can K-Pop be seen as an easy transfer from anime/manga fans and be easier to be introduced to it? How?

⑶ K-Pop has imitated Japan’s music industry model, and has even started to tap into Japan’s fan communities of anime and manga. Can Azuma’s database model theory be applied to Korean Pop artists/singers/bands? (ex. hair styles, physique, legs, etc.) Why or why not?

⑷ Do you think it’s possible for both K-Pop and J-Cool to coexist? Or will one outdo the other in the future?

⑸ Is the J-Wave even on a decline? How so, or how is it not?

SOURCES

Bush, Richard. Public Diplomacy in Northeast Asia: A Comparative Perspective. 30 May 2012. TS. The Brookings Institution, Washington D.C.

Iwabuchi, Koichi. Recentering Globalization. Durham: Duke University Press, 2002. Print.

Nye, Joseph. “Soft Power.” Foreign Policy 80.1 (1990): 153-171 Print.

Seabrook, John. “Factory Girls: Cultural Technology and the Making of K-pop.” The New Yorker. 8 October 2012. 25 November 2012. Web.

[[Show as slideshow]]

Within examinations of Japanese girls’ culture, there lies a wide gap between a perception of traditional subcultures as docile, meaningless cultural consumption based only on non-Internet sociality, that belies the truth. Japanese female-driven subcultures have long been portrayed as more old-fashioned, in-real-life groupings than concurrent male subcultures. This is changing as female otaku become a more pronounced population in online communities and fandoms.
Most popular preconceptions of Japanese subcultures, especially in the Western world, tend to focus on otaku, which roughly translates as geek or dweeb. While the connotations of the word “otaku” have drastically changed in the past few decades, from a term loaded with derision and accusation, to one of pride, a constant element of otaku culture is that it (at least in the minds of both Japanese and Westerners) is mainly comprised of males. Most likely, this stereotype was driven into the public consciousness by the Miyazaki child murders (the so-called “Otaku Murders”) and other otaku-perpetrated crimes, and remains prevalent due to headline-ready, majority-male sub-subcultures, like the shut-in hikikomori.
While the advent of the Internet allows for female enthusiasts to enter the world of otaku fandom with far greater visibility, female otaku are not a new phenomenon. Contrary to the popular image of otaku as male, the market for female-directed doujinshi has been in full force since the advent of Comiket in the 1970s. The rise of otaku, commonly considered to be the 1970s, is concurrent to the rise of shonen ai (boys’ love) stories in shojo (girls’) manga.  Today, the market for manga and anime made for female fans is easily comparable to the market for male fans, and female otaku are becoming a much more vocal part of online fan communities.
In contrast to this reality, many prevalent notions of female Japanese subcultures are often much more traditional notions of what a subculture should resemble. Unlike otaku, subcultures like loli and kogals are seen has participating in a face-to-face group, with tangible artifacts, largely independent of the internet. Frequently, these subcultures feature a strong fashion or visual component, where the participant must posses a certain aesthetic, and a devotion to that aesthetic in order to be considered genuine. Frequently, these groups are demonized either for their perceived sexuality (as with kogals, ogals, and loli), or conversely, for their lack of sexuality (as with the kawaii and kigurumin). Additionally, the necessity of in-real-life interactions within these groups has somewhat faded in recent years, as the Internet enables these groups to form and evolve without ever meeting in person. For a brief overview of these subcultures and their general aesthetics, please left click  on the slideshows above, and select “View Image.”
Among the many subcultures formed by Japanese girls in their post-Bubble society, three have captured international imagination: kawaii, kogal, and loli girls. A few other such groups enter into this discussion of female fandom, like the lesser-known ogals/ganguro/manba and kigurumin. The subcultures described above have existed in Japan in some form for at least the past two decades, and are part of an international image of young Japanese femininity. Among those groups whose flame extinguished more quickly are the ganguro/ogals/manba family of subcultures, and the kigurumin.
While these subcultures might seem disparate, they all follow a few traits common among female subcultures in Japan. All employ cute aesthetics, although what is defined as cute might drastically change over time. Each of these groups has been demonized by mainstream Japanese society as a sign of society’s decadence, and the inability of youth to affect social change. Further cultural stigma is assigned to the girls of these groups if they are seen as either extremely sexualized, like kogals, or as purposefully asexual, like the original kawaii, as the desexualized kigurumin, and the seemingly repellant ogals.
Furthermore, these subcultures are widely seen in mainstream culture as meaningless consumption of culture devoid of value. The decline of post-Bubble youth is marked by their apparent failure to oppose the mainstream, with such youth revolt defined by the student protests of the late 1960s. However, Sharon Kinsella successfully argues that this consciously passive consumption of culture whose meaning is not defined by the mainstream is its own successful form of rebellion. Kawaii works as a reactive subculture because it does not register as particularly rebellious. Because the mainstream definition of youth rebellion is explicitly active, the mainstream fails to see a youth in revolt when girls tan, party, and don’t shower to excess. In other words, these girls are not seen as rebellious even as they utterly reject societal definitions of youth, aging, beauty, and femininity.
And while Dick Hebdige’s seminal work on subcultures in limited in its specificity to 1970s British youth and other Western groups, it still applies quite aptly in its discussion of subculture as an act of resistance. Hebdige’s discussion of drugs as aspect of style distinction is a bit less relevant in Japan than it was in 1970s Britain, but his definitional style elements like clothing, music, dance, and make-up are particularly appropriate when one considers the manba’s para-para dancing, and kawaii idols’ presentation within their own community. His trajectory of a subculture, from marginalized resistance to commercialized mainstream, is easily visible, especially within the everything-kawaii aesthetic visible virtually anywhere in Japan today, and the prevalence of loli subcultures outside the context of Japan. The marketing of cute, which has occurred concurrent to the emergence of kawaii, marked beginning of the end for that same subculture, as the opening of the Moi-Meme-Moitie brand similarly doomed the edginess of goth loli style. Furthermore, Hebdige’s ideas on subculture as an expression of rebellion against the raw materials of culture dovetail cleanly with the theory, as expressed by Anne McKnight in her work on French influences in Japanese subculture, that Japanese subcultures are a reaction against the American post-WWII Occupation.
Viewing all subculture as a form of resistance seems to help explain the motives for creating, entering, and consuming these subcultures. However, a single pat answer can never fully explain the complex motives behind self-identification. Chalking up all subculture, especially in the non-Western world, to some kind of rebellion ignores and dismisses other potential motivators, like a positive sense of belonging, a desire for a feminine, feminist space, or even more obscure subcultural sources. While the loli groups are commonly referred to as Victoriana-fetishists, who idolize all that is European, it is entirely possible that the loli aesthetic can also be attributed to the Japanese styles worn in the Meiji period, which, while Westernized, were rarely fully Western. What’s more, Japanese notions of what constitutes a subculture are quite different from Western ones, and the air of deviance that accompanies most Western subcultures is not necessary in Japan. Kawaii has progressed so far down Hebdige’s subculture life-cycle that it is now mainstream in everything but name, and kawaii goods are everywhere. In fact, kawaii aesthetics and manga are two alleged subcultures where it is far more revolutionary not to partake of them. Clearly, examinations of Japanese subcultures must be made even more specialized in order to analyze these subcultures within their own cultural context.
In Japan’s post-Bubble culture, young women and girls have frequently been pushed away from developing subcultures like otaku and its attendant online communities, while being pushed into subcultures which, through their non-Internet presence, tangible artifacts, and familiar set of distinct style elements, represent a more traditional model of subculture within Japan. Ironically, in maintaining seemingly harmless, meaningless subcultures built on cute aesthetics and seemingly meaningless style elements, young Japanese women are able to transgressively resist a mainstream culture that continues to work as a patriarchy, even as the wreck of the Bubble economy leaves other pillars of Japanese culture toppled.

Discussion Questions
1. Where do you think female otaku fandom and female subcultures might be headed in the future?
2. While not discussed here, how do you think Azuma’s database model might apply to female otaku? How might the system apply to non-otaku female subcultures?
3. How might female fandoms and female subcultures intersect?
How do you feel about the combined (Kinsella, Hebdige, etc.) idea of Japanese subculture as resistance, especially to the Occupation? How might resistance to the Occupation fit in here?

Sources

• Azuma, Hiroki. Otaku, Japan’s Database Animals. Minneapolis, MN: University Of Minnesota Press, 2009. Print.
• Galbraith, Patrick W. “Akihabara: Conditioning a Public “Otaku” Image.” Mechademia. 5. (2010): 210-230. Web. 11 Nov. 2012. < http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/mec/summary/v005/5.galbraith.html>.
• Hebdige, D. Subculture, the meaning of style. Padstow, Cornwall: Methuen and Co. Ltd, 1979. Print.
• Kinsella, Sharon. “Cuties In Japan.” In Women, Media, and Consumption in Japan. Lise Skov and Brian Moeran. Honolulu, HI: University of Hawai’i Press, 1995. 220-254. Print.
• Macias, P., I. Evers, and K. Nonaka. Japanese schoolgirl inferno, tokyo teen fashion subculture handbook. San Francisco, CA: Chronicle Books Llc, 2007. Print.
• McKnight, Anne. “Frenchness and Transformation in Japanese Subculture, 1972–2004.” Mechademia. 5. (2010): 118-137. Web. 12 Nov. 2012. <http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/mec/summary/v005/5.mcknight.html >.
• Toku, Masami. “Shojo Manga! Girls’ Comics! A Mirror of Girls’ Dreams.” Mechademia. 2. (2007): 19-32 . Web. 11 Nov. 2012. <http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/mec/summary/v002/2.toku.html >.
• Winge , Theresa. “Undressing and Dressing Loli: A Search for the Identity of the Japanese Lolita .” Mechademia. 3. (2008): 47-63. Web. 11 Nov. 2012. <http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/mec/summary/v003/3.winge.html>.

What is positive about cute?

Cute can reach across gender and generation.  Cute makes people feel needed, makes them feel like they are taking care of something helpless.  Japanese teenagers use cute as a way to fit in with their friends⁵

and, in the case of cute handwriting, as a way to communicate with them using a language and writing style³ that is all their own.  Older Japanese females use cute as a way to use their mothering skills.  Japan’s low birth-rate implies that fewer women are married with their own children.  Hello Kitty and other cute creatures provide them with a way to express their nurturing talent.  In addition to encouraging a mothering instinct, cute creatures encourage these women to retreat into innocence themselves.⁴ The everyday life of a Japanese woman can be extremely ordered and demanding, requiring an adherence to social roles that are stifling.  Embracing cute allows for a break.

Cute is not just for Japanese women, however.  All of Japanese society has embraced cute.  Hello Kitty has a line of menswear and teenage boys are tattooed with other Sanrio characters.  Cute has a way of permeating many facets of society.  Banks, heavy-machinery, toilets, and so-called ‘Love-hotels’ are also given a cute makeover.  These businesses and machines generally have a cold, harsh, dirty, or unpleasant connotation but cute changes that.  A backhoe painted to look like a pink giraffe or a love hotel named after “Laura from Little House on the Prairie” puts a friendly face on an otherwise unfriendly and impersonal task.  That pink giraffe and its driver are working together to get the job done.  That love-hotel’s innocent name lends that innocence to the business at hand.⁶

What is negative about cute?

The love hotel with the innocent name is still a place where couples rent space to have sex but when named after a girl from a children’s novel the connection becomes twisted and the lines between mature sex partner and childlike fantasy figure become blurred.  Mary Roach points out in  Wired⁶ that:

Japanese schoolgirl panties for sale.

“Some Japanese men are drawn more to the typical owner of cute merchandise than to the merchandise itself.  The cuteness of a giggling girl clad in a Hello Kitty jumper isn’t entirely innocent.  It ties in to what is well known in Japan as Lolicom, the Lolita complex.  The phenomenon of the little girl as sexual object abounds in Tokyo: Vending machines sell schoolgirls’ used panties, which the girls sell to middlemen.  “Image bars” specialize in escorts dressed in school uniforms.  Telephone clubs feature bored adolescent girls earning spending money by talking dirty.  Sex shops sell a porn magazine called anatomical illustrations of Junior High School Girls.”

The negative connotations of cute apply to more than just the blurred lines of sexy and innocent.  Cute culture encourages consumption on a mass scale.  Keeping up with cute implies embracing what might be perceived as frivolity and superficiality.  “Cultural conservatives think this is rather dangerous as such values contribute to weak submissive women who purposely act clueless and never want to grow up.  Feminists also deplore Hello Kitty and the values she represents.”⁷

What is positive about American cute?

Japan may be the leader in cute but America has certainly taken a turn for the adorable.  YouTube is saturated with videos about laughing babies and sneezing pandas.  These videos hardly scratch the surface of American cute culture.  Sanrio’s first stand-alone store was in San Francisco.⁴  Americans embrace cute because they embrace youth.  They associate getting old with its negative attributes such as becoming less attractive and perhaps becoming less relevant.  American cuteness, similar to Japanese cuteness, lets its followers feel young again.⁴  It also gives them an escape from everyday life, which for American adults, tends to include a weak economy, a poor job market, thin relationships, and more.  A smiling Christmas tree or a friendly helpful waffle maker can be uplifting and reassuring.  A friendly face, even if it is on a multicolored robot ornament is encouraging.

What is negative about American cute?

American cute has many of the same implications as Japanese cute.  Beauty products aimed at women are marketed in a way that suggests a return to infancy to be sexier.  Fashion has taken cute and made it high fashion.  A Vogue magazine Christmas fashion editorial has a ten-year-old as its central model.  American cute has taken a light hearted movement and twisted it.  Product campaigns are not the only place we see cute in a bad light.  Society has two ways of looking at cute: “Cute objects are either lovely, or else they are delightfully absorbed in some technique that we ourselves take for granted.”  Referring to adults as ‘cute’ implies that they are “innocent,” in need of “protection,” or are suffering from “slight inability.”¹ None these phrases inspires confidence or authority in the person described.

Who consumes cute culture?

We have established that cute is everywhere.  Sanrio’s Hello Kitty is a worldwide ambassador of cute but she can be a bit pushy.  Japanese teens report that consuming cute helps them fit in with their friends and feel the pressure to collect all the Hello Kitty merchandise.  With upwards of 15,000 products, that can be quite a task.  Additionally, the pressure is on even those who do not desire to participate in cute culture.  In his article, in the Journal of Material Culture, McVeigh reports, “a number of individuals explained to [him] that though they do not really care for Hello Kitty, they feel they must a ct as if they do.”⁵  We can see that cute is not completely innocent.

How do Japanese media use the lens of cute to view women?

Hiroto Murasawa, an authority on beauty, warns that cute culture can instill “a mentalitiy the breeds non-assertion, individuals who choose to stand out get beaten down.”  With this mindset, more women are acting like children and engaging in childlike and childish behavior.  Women are tending to giggle more, speak in an intentionally high-pitched voice, wear childish clothing, throw temper tantrums or act purposely clueless.  A restaurant featuring maids that are eternally 17 years old perpetuates this youthful submissiveness.  The media encourages this cute display by broadcasting television shows hosted by teenagers, promoting pop stars that cry on command or idolizing actresses who ensure no one ever finds not cute.²

Click here to view the embedded video.

What does cute culture mean for American women?

“New Girl” Jess is very cute when she pouts.

The pressure for American women to be cute is applied from all forms of media. Aside from the sexualizing of children, we see television shows that reflect an infantilizing of women and a trend toward more harmless, less outwardly intelligent leading female characters whose main goal can often be perceived as achieving the approval of the men around them.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Television listings supply a surprisingly long list of shows about women in their 20s and 30s, but are called, or refer to themselves as, girls.  Girls, Two Broke Girls, New Girl, The Big Bang Theory and The Mindy Project all feature women whose ages range from 24 to 35 and are single, insecure, sexualized and often directionless.  American media supports cute and increases the pressure on those who are not cute to conform.

Cute can be a positive thing, as I’ve shown, but the power of adorable is overshadowing a darker implication.  The pressure to be cute, and the results of that pressure, can be dangerous. Mass consumption, superficiality, sexualized children and infantile women are not positive outcomes of this movement.  We have to be careful not to put a smiling, pastel, rounded face on these facts.

Discussion questions:

1) Cute is adorable and innocent and comforting, but as we’ve seen, it can have a darker side.  Can these two ever be separate again?

2) Sharon Kineslla’s Cuties in Japan tells us that cute is a form of resistance in Japan.  It is a way to refuse to take part in adult responsibilities.  Based on television shows such as New Girl and Jersey Shore, is that true in America?

3) If cute is a form of resistance, what can be said about the pressure to consume more of it to fit in?

Sources

Many would be surprised to hear that at one point in time, Japan was quite possibly the world’s largest consumer of luxury goods. In 2008, the French luxury goods conglomerate, Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton (LVMH) reported that its sales in Japan alone accounted for 20% of their fashion and leather goods department.  A few of the well-known subsidiaries in LVMH include: Fendi, Donna Karan, Givenchy, Louis Vuitton, and Marc Jacobs. [1]

Additionally, the high-end Japanese streetwear industry experienced extreme growth in the early 2000s.  Companies such as A Bathing Ape were at the forefront of this expansion and dominated the industry for years. Despite their ‘street’ branding, t-shirts alone were and continue to be sold for anywhere from $80-$200 U.S. dollars in Japan.  Many producers and analysts cannot seem to understand this phenomenon, but a few point to the rise of a new otaku culture.

Sailor Moon’s Michiru Kaioh and Haruka Tenou

Japanese fans who tuned into the English-language debut of the seminal “magical girl” anime Sailor Moon might have gotten quite a shock when two of the series’ most popular female charcters, Michiru Kaioh and Haruka Tenou, made their first onscreen appearance. “The look in my cousin’s eyes,” recalls Haruka in a voice-over, describing the first time she met Michiru, “was so intense.”

If you’re unfamiliar with Sailor Moon, this translation probably does not strike you as obviously inaccurate. Unfortunately, in the original Japanese, Haruka and Michiru are not cousins. They are lovers. And within the shoujo genre, they are hardly unusual.

Anyone following the early American anime scene in the 1990’s and early 2000’s, when distributers were rushing to capitalize on the craze for all things Japanese, will recall the extraordinary application of censorship that was required to make the shows “acceptable” to young, Western audiences. While most of what was required for male-oriented programs involved downplaying violence, with female-oriented or shoujo anime, producers faced quite the challenge trying to edit out the homosexual relationships that are a frequent feature of the genre, which were considered inappropriate for young audiences. As you can see below, the changes made to the English version of Sailor Moon resulted in the characters’ relationship seeming quite awkward and, at times, borderline incestuous.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Although female-female or yuri relationships, such as the one shared by Michiru and Haruka, appear relatively often in shoujo anime and manga, male-male romances are far more popular, some of which are prominent enough to merit their own subgenre, known as shounen ai or “boy’s love.” Some of these relationships are overtly sexual, but many are not. A casual observer might note these multitude of same-sex relationships and thus make the deduction that Japanese society has a relaxed attitude toward gay and lesbian individuals. Unfortunately, this is not remotely the case. This presents an apparent paradox to Western viewers – how can Japanese pop culture be so saturated with images of same-sex romance and yet segregate real-life homosexuals so fiercely?

It is important at this point to note that Japanese society does not place a moral stigma on homosexuality in the way that Christian-origin societies in Europe and America do – in other words, in Japan, the act of gay sex is not considered inherently wrong. Rather, in contemporary Japanese society, homosexual relationships are problematic because a woman who chooses to love a woman, rather than a man, cannot marry, have children, and thus fulfill her role in society. The same applies for gay men. Although there are gay and lesbian communities in Japan, the percentage of “out” individuals is far smaller than in the U.S., and societal pushback for these men and women is punishingly restrictive. What emerges from this situation is a status quo where expressions of homosexuality are tolerated and, particularly in the case of males, indulged – but only up to the point where they do not prevent an individual from fulfilling his or her expected societal role. A 34-year-old lesbian, who chose to identify herself only as “KM,” reinforced this perspective in a 2010 interview with CNN : [2]

KM explains that when she first started going to lesbian and gay bars in Tokyo 10 years ago, it was fine, until her friends began to ask questions. “They asked about my future. ‘When will you marry?’ ‘Why don’t you have a boyfriend?’ They would ask me, and it was trouble,” she says. (“Lesbians in Japan Struggle to Build Their Own Community,” CNN)

A scene from the anime adaptation of The Song of the Wind and the Trees, one of the earliest shounen ai titles for girls.

In other words, KM’s circle of acquaintances had no issue with her going to gay bars – not until signs began to indicate that she did not intend to marry a man. In fact, for many years, certain cultural outlets with homosexual overtones, such as the all-female Takarazuka Theater (whose productions  feature women dressed as men performing in romantic scenes with other women, and whose aesthetics were crucial to the creation of the shojou manga), were praised as “safe outlet[s] for the budding passions of teenage girls and young women until they were older and their sexual desires had matured and shifted ‘naturally’ to anatomically correct men.” (Takarazuka: Sexual Politics and Popular Culture in Modern Japan, 143) [3]

Readership, like sexuality, is a complex issue in Japan, but while gay and lesbian individuals do consume and produce this sort of shoujo content, as well as other media, they are not the primary topic of this post. This is because, despite appearances, by and large, these depictions of gay and lesbian romance in manga, anime, and other forms of entertainment are neither intended for, nor an endorsement of, homosexual individuals. Rather, they are produced and consumed almost exclusively by straight women, and within that category, the women are overwhelmingly in the stage of life known as shoujo (少女), literally meaning “young woman” and referring to the period between puberty and marriage. Social anxiety in Japan has focused on the shoujo since the beginning of modernity, largely due to the fact that if women do not perform their necessary societal duties by marrying, having children and then caring for the home and family, not only can men no longer fulfill their duties, but society itself will cease to exist as women are the producers of new citizens. [5] Depictions of same-sex romance in the pop culture products that these young women consume serve to simultaneously assuage these fears and undermine them. You will note that, while men are also expected to fulfill their end of the bargain, there are comparatively fewer restrictions placed on them – which in itself may explain why the seemingly counterintuitive “boy’s love” subgenre is so popular among these young women. [4]

Although it may seem counterintuitive, the reason these works attract such a huge straight female readership is that shounen ai or yuri romance is usually not about hidden homosexual desires, although there are individuals to whom this applies. But particularly when regarding most popular genre, male-male relationships, these stories are about expressing the desired qualities of romance that are denied to women in Japan’s normalized, heterosexual model. They do use these stories to subvert the traditional gender model in Japan, but not in the sense that they want to become men or even gay men. Rather, the ideas being expressed include the idea of romantic partners being equals (something that is impossible in the typical Japanese heterosexual relationship), the female desire to have access to the sexual freedom enjoyed by males, the concept of partners sharing a love so pure that it transcends bodily and cultural limitations (and thus is “not really gay”), and so on. [4] [6] These expressions of sexuality, safely cloaked in “youth” and male bodies, are thus accepted by society: either within the proactive discourse of a safe outlet, as was said about Takarazuka, or the passive one of tolerance, so long as exposure to these titles does not lead to actual homosexual or otherwise deviant behavior.

The romantically involved characters Yukito and Touya, from the shoujo manga Cardcaptor Sakura. Note their feminine features.

But as stated above, the idea of same-sex romance manga and anime as a kind of “nicotine patch” for gay tendencies, while not invalid, misses an important dimension of their appeal. Since these stories are written almost exclusively for female audiences, it has been often argued that particularly in the case of male-male romances, the male bodies depicted in these stories are less masculine than androgynous or even feminine, allowing them to function as, depending on the theorist, either feminine stand-ins or safe, genderless expressions of ideal romance. In short, depicting the ideal female romance through the bodies of two men removes the constraints of gender politics and allows readers to instead focus on the relationship. This view can also be applied to yuri romance, although those types of stories are far more tied to questions of female identity – a controversy that perhaps explains why they are less popular.

In other words, according to many observers and fans, the popularity of same-sex romances among heterosexual female consumers has little to do with these women being sexually stimulated by images of gay and lesbian romantic relationships. Instead, they are a way for them to escape the norms of heterosexual love and criticize its boundaries without drawing criticism themselves. Such relationships allow these women to safely express their desire to love in ways that are not open to them in contemporary Japanese society, and to be free from the sometimes repressive expectations of gender, marriage, and heterosexual life.

Discussion Questions

1. What purposes does female consumption of male-male romance serve for Western audiences? How is the popularity of “slash fiction,” or Western fan stories that pair straight male characters in romantic relationships, different from the appeal of Japanese shounen ai? How is it similar?

2. Although depictions of same-sex relationships in popular media are less “taboo” than in America, they are still a source of social anxiety for Japan regarding young women. Do Western media portrayals of same-sex relationships carry the same kinds of concerns? What group(s) are they directed at?

3. Although most theorists believe that male-male romance in particular functions as some sort of outlet for Japanese female audiences, there are many differing explanations as to why and in what ways. For example, some scholars believe that the gender of the relationship is irrelevant. Others link it to a desire on the part of young women to experience the kind of sexual freedoms that men do. Is there an explanation that you find particularly compelling or particularly inaccurate on this matter?

Sources:

1. Levi, Antonia, Mark McHarry and Dru Pagliassotti, ed. Boys’ Love Manga: Essays on the Sexual Ambiguity and Cross-Cultural Fandom of the Genre. Jefferson: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2008.

2. Nakagawa, Ulara. “Japan’s Lesbians Still Scared to Come Out.” CNN International, November 19, 2010. Accessed November 11, 2012. http://www.cnngo.com/tokyo/life/lesbians-in-Japan-struggle-to-build-their-own-community-814836

3. Robertson, Jennifer Ellen. Takarazuka: Sexual Politics and Popular Culture in Modern Japan. Berkley: University of California Press, 1998.

4. Saito, Kumiko. “Desire in Subtext: Gender, Fandom, and Women’s Male-Male Homoerotic Parodies in Contemporary Japan.” Mechadamia 6 (2011). Accessed November 11, 2012. doi: 10.1353/mec.2011.0018

5. Shamoon, Deborah. Passionate Friendship: The Aesthetics of Girls’ Culture in Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2012.

6. Welker, James. “Flower Tribes and Female Desire: Complicating Early Female Consumption of Male Homosexuality in Shoujo Manga.” Mechadamia 6 (2011). Accessed November 11, 2012. doi: 10.1353/mec.2011.0018

Related Links:

Kawaii, Kogals, and Loli: Examinations of Japanese Female Subcultures

Triumph of the School Girl

Standing Out and Fitting In: Street Fashion and the Search for Identity and Power in Post-Bubble Japan

PSY from “Gangnam Style” (2012)

Anyone who spends more than an hour a day online has had a run-in with an internet meme. Trust me; it’s more likely than you think. If lolcats and Gangnam Style are familiar to you, then you have had the dubious honor of experiencing some of the finest subculture produced by the world wide web.  More importantly, you’ve engaged in the sort of participatory postmodern culture production which characterizes post-Bubble Japanese society. In the wake of world wars and economic disaster, Japan’s pop culture has blown past the boundaries of modernity and moved forward into the progressive, edgy, and often nonsensical realm of Hiroki Azuma’s database model. So what does this have to do with a cat wearing a PopTart, flying through space via rainbow propulsion? The answer to this question can best be explained through an internet field trip.

Classic lolcat meme format.

4chan is a notorious imageboard that was born on October 1, 2003, the brainchild of a fifteen year old self-proclaimed American otaku with a vision. Christopher Poole wanted to architect a discussion and information-sharing platform, free of charge, for fellow anime enthusiasts. The coding for the site was lifted with little modification from the Japanese otaku imageboard Futaba Channel, itself a derivative of the well-known and still-active 2 Channel. It runs almost exclusively off of user-generated content and has no hierarchy of users due to the posters’ complete anonymity. There is no registration option, no terms of service agreements, and no archive. Posts are either kept at the top pages of the boards due to high traffic and activity, or they die off quickly and are forever purged from the site–the average post lasts only 3.9 minutes, according to a 2011 paper published by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology [1]. It’s a unique and brilliant system that allows for the content of a post to determine its lifespan and popularity, instead of longevity being decided by the users that generate the posts.

Content on the most active board, /b/, is intentionally random, has little continuous relevance between posts, and ranges from photos of adorable cats to graphic suicide videos preserved in GIF format. /b/ has no static membership, no record, and no accountability. As of July 2008, it generates between 150,000-200,000 unique posts per day. It receives thirty percent of all site traffic to 4chan, and it is undoubtedly the meme-producing hotspot of the internet. /b/ also hosts the sometimes social activist group Anonymous, an ephemeral hacker collective responsible for the crashing of Visa, MasterCard, and Paypal sites and the denial of service attacks against racist radio personality Hal Turner in 2007. Described as “hackers on steroids” and an “internet hate machine,” /b/ is a perfect example by which to fully appreciate Hiroki Azuma’s database model in action.

Click here to view the embedded video.

According to Azuma, there is a degree to which humans under the database model come to consume cultural products without any desire for an underlying meaning. The thirst for the grand narrative, the overarching themes of humanity and nationalism that united us during the modern era, is either missing or, according to theorists like Azuma, replaced instead with meaningless micronarratives and smaller narratives with which increasingly fragmented portions of the global population can identify [2]. Gone are the days in which consumers demanded a transcendent theme or moral to their cultural products—instead, the new face of consumerism is to be found in derivative works, in remixed versions of simulacrum. Copyright laws mean next to nothing on the internet, and original context is something that holds little value to the average web user. Instead, value is found in the virality and popularity of memes—this term was first coined by evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins in his 1979 book The Selfish Gene, and is defined as follows:

Examples of memes are tunes, ideas, catch-phrases, clothes fashions, ways of making pots or of building arches. Just as genes propogate themselves in the gene pool by leaping from body to body via sperms or eggs, so memes propagate themselves in the meme pool by leaping from brain to brain via a process which, in the broad sense, can be called imitation [3].

Memes in the contemporary definition of the word are artifacts of popular culture which stand alone from any greater political, socioeconomic, or moral meaning and are instead spread by word of mouth either over the internet or in real life. These are the lolcats and Rickrolls of the modern age, and these memes stand completely independent of their original context—for almost none of them are original products of culture—and are shared across the globe as having value. In the world of instant culture production, 4chan reigns supreme. These memes are generated, spread, and consumed at a staggering rate, and all outside any attempt at a greater grand narrative. /b/ in particular seems to operate almost exclusively in a language of remixed, mashed-up, and recycled memes.

The emblem of Anonymous.

If animalization of the consumers is a paramount attribute of the otaku, then the self-proclaimed /b/tards of 4chan are the royalty of database animals. This animalization is a product of what philosopher Alexandre Kojeve theorizes is a return to basic, or ‘low’ culture, from the modernist ‘high’ culture of years past. Working within this high domain of criticism, postmodern culture—devoid of grand narratives and higher meaning—is therefore subversive and holds less value than the aristocratic arts and culture of the modern era. As a testament of direct opposition to this stance, Azuma’s database animals have leveled the playing field in terms of what constitutes value in cultural objects, like memes, and the hierarchy of culture production has been brought to its knees. There is no longer an aristocracy to judge memes unworthy of value or meaning, and in postmodernity anyone is capable of producing meaningful culture. There is perhaps no greater example of this fact than the content generated by /b/. Cole Stryker, author of Epic Win for Anonymous: An Online Army Conquers the Media, had this to say:

But what I found on 4chan was a distillation of what made the web so special. It’s wild and weird—a level playing field where physicists and fathers rub shoulders with horny teenagers and senior citizens who compulsively collect their bellybutton lint in mason jars, with photographic proof. To be honest, I often find the place generally repulsive, but sometimes repulsive things have massive influence. On 4chan, you never quite known whom or what you’re going to run into. 4chan is like that burnout teenager who asked you and your childhood friends if y’all wanted to see a dead body down by the train tracks [4].

PUDDI is a well-known /b/-generated meme with obvious Japanese influences.

The forced anonymity of the imageboard, along with a persistent, pervading theme of shaming anyone attempting to stand out from the hivemind of /b/, ensures that all culture and knowledge generated is non-hierarchical and hyperflat. A post concerning the 2012 presidential election can be found directly after a so-called ‘You Laugh, You Lose’ thread, in which the participants post increasingly ridiculous or hilarious images in schoolyard attempt to make each other tap out. There is no way of verifying anyone’s opinions or information, and a teenaged kid stands just as much a chance of becoming the next temporary internet hero as the middle-aged computer programmer in the next thread over.

More interestingly, because most of the content lacks original context or meaning, the imageboard itself has become a sort of transient, ephemeral database for memes in its own right. Individual elements are selected from the repository of /b/’s collective memory–remember, there is no archive–and refashioned into something entertaining or noteworthy, then regurgitated with alarming frequency to voracious consumers. While this probably isn’t the vision of a database model that Azuma had in mind back in 2001, the technoculture of 2012′s 4chan is a perfectly functioning example of this database consumerism.

Nyan Cat in its natural habitat.

No greater meaning can be found in a cat wearing a PopTart in space—it isn’t a social commentary on any larger narrative, and it doesn’t really even make sense on a micronarrative scale. It’s simply the internet’s bizarre sense of humor making itself apparent in another meme, yet it holds some intrinsic value to its consumers or else the hundreds of derivative works, videos, and flash animations involving Nyan Cat would not exist.

Azuma’s database model relies also on a so-called otaku sociality that is readily visible in 4chan’s community of anonymous members. The bonds in a database society are forged and maintained by interest in information-sharing, not in any mandatory kinship or familial community. There is no accountability for the generation, maintenance, or propagation of content, and membership is both ephemeral and completely voluntary. Unlike other social or information-sharing sites on the web, 4chan’s complete anonymity leaves little responsibility for its content and actions. Henry Jenkins, in his 2006 book Fans, Bloggers, and Gamers: Exploring Participatory Culture, states:

The new knowledge communities will be voluntary, temporary, and tactical affiliations, defined through common intellectual enterprises and emotional investments. Members may shift from one community to another as their interests and needs change, and they may belong to more than one community at a time. Yet, they are held together through the mutual production and reciprocal exchange of knowledge [5].

While a valid argument for the intellectual capacity and value of /b/’s content can be undertaken, that line of thought is unfortunately outside the scope of this article. Instead, Jenkins’s assertion fits the dynamic of 4chan’s community perfectly and highlights the postmodern database archetype which Azuma argues is the platform from which otaku culture flourishes. A tribute to both participatory culture and the horrors of the internet, 4chan’s /b/ serves as a fascinating case study into the application of Azuma’s database model on real-time culture generation. I’d recommend you wipe your browser history after visiting, though.

Sources

[1] Bernstein, Michael S. et al. “4chan and /b/: An Analysis of Anonymity and Ephemerality in a Large Online Community.” Proc. ICWSM (2011): 50-57. Print.

[2] Azuma, Hiroki. Otaku: Japan’s Database Animals. Trans. Jonathan E. Abel and Shion Kono. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2009. Print.

[3] Dawkins, Richard. The Selfish Gene. London: Oxford University Press, 1979. Print.

[4] Stryker, Cole. Epic Win for Anonymous: An Online Army Conquers the Media. New York: Overlook Press, 2011. Print.

[5] Jenkins, Henry. Fans, Bloggers, and Gamers: Exploring Participatory Culture. New York: New York University Press, 2006. Print.

Discussion Questions

1. In what ways does 4chan typify the otaku sociality as described by Azuma and Jenkins?
2. /b/’s members both value hyperflatness in their content-sharing and have a penchant for shaming new members and rookies to their culture.  How does this hypocrisy simultaneously embrace and reject the idea of non-hierarchical culture generation?
3. What role does the instant accessibility of the internet play in the database concept behind 4chan?  Would memes be as likely to ‘go viral’ or propagate in a world without the internet?
4. 4chan is the offshoot product of an originally Japanese invention, 2 channel.  Is 4chan a relic of Japanese culture in its own right, or would an American imageboard of its type have likely arisen without influence from otaku technoculture?  Would 4chan be as popular as it is today had it not been founded on, and continually value, Japanese anime culture?

The three leading characters: Asuka, Shinji and Rei from the anime series “Evangelion”

In his work “Otaku: Japan’s Database Animals”, Azuma Hiroki claims that in a post-modern world, there is no longer a necessity for a grand narrative in the products that we consume. This applies to art, television, movies and books. Specifically, Azuma makes this claim in relation to Otaku culture in Japan, but his claim can be applied universally to Otaku culture across the globe. Azuma claims that this has occurred because of what he calls the database. To sum up his assertion simply, he claims that rather than there being a grand narrative (deeper meaning, bigger story, universal application) behind anime, there is a database from which series pull from. For example, someone might watch the show Evangelion simply because it is about robots, girls in tight suits, and an overly emotional boy with father issues.

To Azuma, these are the elements from the database that make the anime Evangelion what it is, rather than being driven by a deeper back story or grander narrative (30-33).  A grand narrative can be thought of as a universal theme that is the driving force behind a work. For example, Hayao Miyazaki films, for the most part, have a grand narrative of environmentalism. Another reoccurring theme that has universal application within his films is that of humanism. To Azuma, post-modern works (such as anime) have moved from this grand narrative, and consumption is driven by the database elements found within animated works.

The cover of the game in which players took care of leading lady Rei Ayanami

Derivative Works as a Vehicle Away From the Grand Narrative: Consumers and Producers

Azuma speaks about derivative works as being a cause of the movement from the grand narrative. These works are created mostly by the fans and in many cases become more popular than the original product themselves. He states that “by contrast [to Gundam fans], many Evangelion fans required settings to empathize with the story’s protagonist, to draw erotic illustrations of the heroine, and to build enormous robot figures, and showed obsessive interest in data to that extent, but beyond that they seldom immersed themselves into the world of the works” (37). Azuma is telling the reader that the fans would create derivative works and create their own universe and situations for their favorite characters from Evangelion rather than staying true to the original works. From this, the company who created Evangelion responded, and gave the fans what they were looking for. They created games based off of the derivative works. “For instance, there were mahjong games, erotic telephone card designs using the Evangelion characters, and even simulation games in which players nurture the heroine Ayanami Rei” (37). So the database is not solely something that consumers partake in, but producers as well. They need to tap into this database in order to create a successful product that the Otaku subculture will consume and enjoy.

Database and Moe: Are They One in the Same?

Tsugumi from “Guilty Crown” donned with cat ears performs a stereotypical magical girl transformation sequence.

It can be argued from Azuma’s argument about the database, that the database is simply a conglomeration of what has been dubbed as moe. Moe itself is difficult to define, but it has been attempted by numerous scholars to do so.  Thomas Lemarre defines it as such “Moe, which can be written either with the characters for “sprouting/budding” or “burning/blazing,” refers broadly to the affective responses to the elements that appear to sprout from manga, anime, or game characters, such as cat ears, colored hair, rabbit tails [etc.]” (258). He elaborates more into discussing if moe means a sexual attraction, or just something that people find alluring. Regardless, there is no true consensus on what moe truly is, but at its most basic, moe can be understood as the database that Azuma speaks of. Moe, as Lemarre puts it, can exist as a range of characteristics ranging from rabbit tails to pink hair. From an Azumanian point of view, moe and the database are one of the

Haruhi Suzumiya from the anime series “The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya”

numerous reasons as to why as a culture in the post-modern world we have moved away from the modernist notions of the grand narrative.

Anomalies within the Anime World

A fan made picture of Shizuo and Izaya from the anime series “Durarara!!”

It is true, that there are anomalies to be found as an exception to Azuma’s argument. Meredith Suzanne Hahn Aquila speaks about this point in her article “Ranma ½ Fan Fiction Writers: New Narrative Themes or the Same Old Story?” She states that “even within active, participatory fan groups, many fans are outright resistant to any sort of drastic change… We must remember: although technology makes all things possible, it does not make all things probable” (42). From Aquiia, it can be argued that even though fans may wish to create derivative works, if it goes too far beyond what the creators originally had intended it is rejected by the fanbase. It isn’t necessarily that it is removed too far from the database, but rather it is too far from the grand narrative that was intended by the creators of particular anime. One of the greatest examples of an anomaly within the anime world is Hayao Miyazaki. His fanbase is massive and crosses all sorts of cultural, religious and national borders. His social commentary and universal themes such as humanism keep his fans interested in his works, and allows discussion to occur on a deeper level concerning the grand narrative behind his works.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Azuma’s assertion that we are simply animals consuming from a database leaves the post-modern world with little hope of returning to a time when the grand narrative was something to be sought after. In many cases, this assertion remains true. Clothing, movies, television and books are all tailored out of a database, created by producers so that consumers will do what they are best at- consuming. This database is massive with millions upon millions of combinations in which they can be placed together. It can even be argued that this database has inhibited new material from being contributed to it, as “new works” are simply bits and pieces of the database thrown together to create a product that will sell. However, through Miyazaki there is some shinning beam of hope for the post-modern person. His universal themes that spark conversation have created a path on which those in the post-modern era can return to the golden age of modernism. But who is to say, that the wish for a return to the modernist age is another database element?

Discussion Questions

1)      Can you think of any works that bring us back to a grand narrative? What is it about this work that brings us back to the grand narrative rather than simply consuming from the database?

2)      Do you believe that Aquila is correct when she states that if a derivative work strays too far from the original that it is rejected by the fanbase? What examples can you think of where this has occurred?

3)      I have made a claim that the database and moe are one in the same. Do you agree or disagree? Do you think that moe and the database is something limited only to Japan, or does this have a universal application?

4)      Hayao Miyazaki’s works are famous around the globe. Do you believe that his themes are just another aspect of the database? Why or why not?

Sources:

Aquila, Meredith. “Ranma ½ Fan Fiction Writers: New Narrative Themes or the Same Old Story?” Mechademia Volume 2: User Enhanced 2 (2007): 34-47. Project MUSE. Web. 3 Nov. 2012. <http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/mechademia/v002/2.hahn-aquila.html>.

Azuma, Hiroki. Otaku: Japan’s Database Animals. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 2009. Print.

ps. That’s my cat.

pps. Notice the cat ears

In the future, I wish to attend graduate school for Japanese Studies. My hope is to one day become a professor either at the Community College or University level.

I decided to take “Gross National Cool” because the course feeds two of my foremost passions. Firstly, it centers on cultural narratives, how those narratives are consumed, and what can be understood about a culture from its narratives. Secondly, this course studies all of that by examining Japan, a country whose culture I have studied since before coming to college. I did a cultural and linguistic exchange program in Hokkaido before my senior year of high school, and I aspire to return one day.

When I’m not studying Japan or its language, I am interested in theatrical costume and millinery, and I enjoy cooking and sewing, and just generally making things. I use my free time to teach my toddler cousin to fist bump.

In my future endeavors I hope to work with many different cultures across the globe and having a basic knowledge of  the theory of Japanese pop culture and soft power is a start.

Striving to be a knowledgable consumer in all areas of my life.

Yoroshiku! I’m Elizabeth Denny and I’m an East Asian Studies major at the College of William & Mary, concentrating in Japanese language and culture. Although I grew up surrounded by the Japanese television programs and toys that arrived in America at the height of the 1990s “Japan Wave”, I started studying Japanese in middle school for a completely different reason. Initially, I picked it because I wanted to try something totally different from anything I’d studied before. Little did I know I’d still be studying it almost a decade later — and no, causative-passive form has not gotten any easier. Although my high school education was limited to the language, I found that the more deeply I delved into Japanese grammar, the more I was learning about Japanese culture, and when I finally got the chance in my freshman year to study Japanese literature, I jumped.

Since then I’ve tried everything in the department, from foreign policy to feminism, and I’ve enjoyed it all. This summer I interned at the Brookings Institution’s Center for Northeast Asian Policy and received a great education in regional diplomacy, which I continue to utilize in my cultural research. In particular I enjoy examining the intersections of media, culture, and policy, and I’m currently in the planning stages for my honors thesis on depictions of gender and sexuality in Japanese pop culture. I’m grateful everyday for the opportunity this field of study allows to have my perceptions challenged, and I hope to keep exploring Nippon for many years to come.

Mecha from Mobile Suit Gundam Wing (2005).

こんにちわ みんなさん!

My name is Chris Young, and I’m a senior Geology major at the College.  I transferred in from Thomas Nelson Community College last fall.  I plan to head off to a graduate program in Natural Disaster Prediction and Mitigation after graduation, and I’d eventually like to work with natural disaster response in lesser-developed regions of Asia.

My background in Japanese language and culture is entertaining.  I was first introduced to Japanese cuisine as a kid–my dad was a chef with a penchant for tempura and wasabi.  As a teenager I became interested in anime and manga of the 1990′s–Mobile Suit Gundam Wing, Outlaw Star, and Neon Genesis Evangelion, to name a few.  My interest focused on a few specific database elements: giant mecha, space colonies with no discernible applicability to modern physics, paramilitary organizations, war, and an appalling lack of cohesive plot.  In order to understand the context behind many of the customs presented in these mediums, I began researching Japanese culture.  Once it became apparent that I’d have to wait weeks for new volumes of manga to be translated by fans during the heyday of 56K dialup and AOL, I began learning hiragana and katakana.  I founded the first Japanese Culture and Language club at my high school before graduating, and I still consume a frightening amount of J-Rock and J-Pop in addition to manga and assorted imported Japanese snacks.  I proudly consider myself a second generation otaku.

In addition to learning about Japanese language and customs, I think a coherent understanding of the historical context behind the culture produced in Japan is critical to fully appreciating how it reflects national identity and values.  My interest in contemporary Japanese culture is specific to how it translates across language and cultural barriers, and I’m quite intrigued with the way in which we as Americans consume and internalize memes of Japanese culture and give them a Western spin.  We can learn quite a bit about our own digital anthropology in studying Japan’s technoculture.

Old Sow In The Black Room by Harriet Sergeant, 208 pp.Trafalgar Square (July 1995), $14.99

British journalist Harriet Sergeant once noted that men wrote the vast majority of the accounts of Japan. So, with husband and daughter in tow, she traveled over six-thousand miles away from home to live Tokyo for a grand total of six years. The varied assortment of characters she meets in her travels show a much broader and more well-rounded view of Japan than one would expect, but at a price. Old Sow In The Back Room paints a picture of Japan that is dismal at best, and at worst a confirmation of Western suspicions of corruption, social and gender inequality, and depression previously masked by cultural spectacle.

The main point that Sergeant tries to impress upon her audience from the start of the book to the end is the fact that one’s experience in Japan, whether you are a native or a foreigner, depends almost entirely on your gender. Western men wrote most of the well-known travelogues on Japan and most (that is to say, most that have gone for that fabled “Japanese experience”) seem utterly enchanted, and with good reason. Provided you are of some means, the men bend over backwards to make their western counterparts comfortable, the women throw themselves at them, and women are hired for the sole purpose of being pretty and delightful. Sergeant, however, saw no ceremony, no indulgence, no proverbial “slack”. She was on her own, left to her own devices with nothing more than a few weeks of Japanese lessons.

In her travels, she joins the social circle of Mrs. Abe, with whom she first learns about etiquette and gender norms. She goes on to befriend Yuno, a professional gambler and member of the yakuza, and Midori, a young woman who ignores her country’s expectations of what women should do but finds herself without a side she can identify with. The elderly of the Kobokan Community Center teach her about the Great Kanto Earthquake and see themselves as living relics of a very different Japan long since dead. A visit to a family of burakumin, the Japanese equivalent of India’s untouchables, further drives home the severity of Japanese ideas of social hierarchy. They are far more warm and affable than most higher-class Japanese that Sergeant meets, with a sense of family unity that seems to come from facing generations of contempt..

While Sergeant’s tale is first and foremost an account of her travels and personal experiences in Japan, it is without a doubt a comparison and criticism of the country in how it conflicts with western ideas. Her visits to Mrs. Abe and her many attempts to navigate and follow the rules of a strange city give the impression that Japan is simply rigid and fixated on etiquette, which one may not be keen on but would surely agree is not worthy of condemnation.

Sergeant never explicitly criticizes Japan, but simply retelling her experiences and feelings at the time evoke enough empathy from a western reader to remove any need for blatant criticism. It is in her unique perspective as a woman and a mother that the reader gains a true understanding of what goes on behind the scenes. Women fill minor roles in society and are expected to marry before they are considered past their prime and forever afterward are only wives and mothers who are to sacrifice everything for their parents, in-laws, husband, and children. Japan is known for placing heavy pressure on students and salary men, but that which is placed on women is rarely acknowledged. And though Sergeant is clearly concerned by the near-total divergence of spouses and the coldness she perceives between them, she spends most of her time on her own, away from her husband and with her child in the care of a nanny (which is an exotic and somewhat appalling luxury to Japanese women.)

The most telling episodes in the entire book, however, deal with the infamous yakuza. The first glimpse is with Yuno, who shows her a not-so-underground family reminiscent of The Godfather and its prevalence in government and business. Several smaller incidents show shop home owners threatened and forced to pay protection money and yet think it’s just how things are done. While the yakuza are portrayed mostly as a sinister, unseen force, they are given a moment of sympathy when Sergeant discovers that, being primarily made up of the ostracized burakumin, they are a product of the system they manipulate.

Every anecdote and chapter in her book is essential, however minor or trivial it may initially appear. Learning new words shows how ingrained certain concepts are into the Japanese psyche, a trip to a public pool shows the parental role of the government, and a preschool questionnaire shows the excessive involvement Japanese mother have with their children. No part of this book could or should be cut down or paraphrased. I was unaware that Sergeant spent six years abroad before reading the inside cover because the book was so engrossing that it never seemed tedious in the least. That, in combination with a commentary free of prejudice and Sergeant’s wide range of acquaintances and daily experiences is what makes Old Sow In The Back Room such a revealing portrait of Japan. Through a woman’s eyes, she manages to peel back the superficial layer that the West sees, like peeling back the drywall to see what’s living in the walls.

Carey, Peter. "Wrong About Japan: A Father's Journey with His Son." Random House, Inc., 2005. pp 158. $14.10.

By Isabel Bush

Peter Carey is one of Australia’s most famous contemporary authors. His novels and short stories have earned special praise, and he is one of  two writers to win the prestigious Man-Booker Prize twice. For the past two decades, he has lived with his family in New York City. In the early 2000s, Carey took his teenaged son Charley to Japan to explore the culture together. The resulting voyage became Wrong About Japan: A Father’s Journey with His Son, an exploration of his relationship with his son, and that of Japan with Western society. The narrative is pleasant enough to read, but Carey’s conclusions about Japan are disappointing and almost superficial. At times, his experience in Japan seems to have less to do with Japan than Carey’s attempt to connect with Charley as he becomes an adolescent.

Carey first noticed his son’s interest in Japan after Charley began immersing himself in Japanese comic books and animated films (called manga and anime, respectively). Charley was a quiet boy to the outside world, but when his interest in Japan led him to become more extroverted, his surprised father offered to take him to Japan, ostensibly to interview the anime and manga idols Charley so admired. Charley assented on one surprising condition: they would not visit “Real Japan.” “No temples. No museums,” no delicate geisha or the like (11). Carey and Charley would only examine “Real Japan” inasmuch as it could help them understand the country before them. As their trip progressed, however, it became clear that their preconceptions about Japanese culture were mistaken in almost every instance, leaving the reader wondering whether a foreigner can ever understand Japan. Carey concludes that Japan is a delicate enigma wrapped in a lacquered puzzle box, to which gaijin (foreign barbarians) could never get the key.

While Charley wants to understand contemporary Japan, Carey looks to more arcane artifacts of Japanese culture, searching to understand a thoroughly modern, paradoxically traditional culture. One of the author’s fundamental questions is whether he or his son had the correct method for interpreting Japan. Is it better to analyze a culture’s context and condescend, as Carey does, to its modern existence, or is it better to examine a culture only as it is in the present, without any knowledge of how it became this way?

Carey never fully answers this question. Initially, he is convinced that his methodology is correct, but as the story progresses and Carey misses every pitch, culturally speaking, he begins to doubt himself. Every time he thinks he can draw some conclusion about Japan, he talks to another of his experts (and who is more expert than an actual Japanese person?) and he is contradicted again. How Japanese people perceive Americans, how they read their manga, why they enjoy what they enjoy, what they eat for breakfast, how proud they are–Carey strives to understand it all, but blunders into Japanese culture with the delicacy of a stereotypical American tourist. Neither Carey nor Charley speaks Japanese, nor makes any effort to beyond the occasional konnichiwa. Furthermore, they stay in and around Tokyo, and never visit any less-urbanized areas, which are arguably more genuinely Japanese than the Westernized cities like Tokyo.

One of Carey’s most prominent Japanese “experts,” and the narrative’s most confounding  addition, is Takashi, a friend Charley met over the internet, who guides them around Tokyo. He represents another in a crowded chorus of characters who sing a confusing, dissonant melody of what it means to be Japanese. However, Takashi is not real. Takashi is supposed to explicitly show the reader how the Japanese think and live their daily lives, but the knowledge that he was created by a Western man, one who claims throughout his narrative that he cannot understand Japan, only hurts the character’s credibility, and ultimately, the narrative’s. Takashi’s narrative purpose is superficially to compare the young Japan Charley idealizes with the traditions Carey seeks, but he could have been added to allow the author to rationalize his lackluster relationship with Charley.

There is, however, a lurking disappointment to Wrong About Japan. While the story itself is strong, it can sometimes seem a little flat. Carey’s other works, like My Life as a Fake, are vivid and captivating in ways that this book just isn’t. The book takes time to generate its momentum, but once it does, it’s quite enjoyable. The extensive, ambiguous quest in Wrong About Japan is a common motif in Carey’s work, and as he does in his novels, Carey leaves his readers unclear about the story’s conclusion. One never knows if Carey or Charley find what they came to Japan for, or if they ever figure it out for themselves. One of the more irritating aspects of Carey’s narrative is its travelers’ privilege. Carey and his son have a marvelous itinerary, and could have done and learned so much more. It’s disappointing when, after meeting people like the iconic animators Hayao Miyazaki and Yoshiyuki Tomino, Carey is bogged down thinking that he can’t fully understand Japan, and seems to stop trying to. His Orientalist distancing of Japan as the “Other” almost certainly guarantees that he could never fully understand this group of people.

by Aaron Buncher

Traveller from Tokyo is a first hand account of John Morris’ life in Japan, from pre-World War II through World War II times.  The work starts out detailing his arrival as a foreigner in Japan, and his job as an English teacher, educating high schoolers in response to demand for native speakers to teach the language.  Morris continues on to explain his search for a suitable house and his difficulties with the Japanese method of street numbering, as well as with procuring a telephone (a rarity in 1930’s Japan). He then digresses and begins to discuss facets of Japanese life, through both his own commentary as well as personal anecdotes.  He does so in an organized manner, first discussing everyday Japan (food, dress, and language), then Japanese thought, English and Japanese print, recreational activities, marriage and sex, and finally mass media, including that of the West and its influence on Japan. Part II of the book consists of Morris’ life as a foreigner after December 7^th, 1941, the date the Japanese Attacked Pearl Harbor, and entered WWII.  This section of the book is less organized, although it does follow Morris’s time in Japan more chronologically. Part II is comprised of sections on Japanese police and criminal proceedings, several personal stories, wartime practices (including rationing and air raid sirens), the Japanese army, and Morris’ departure from Japan after nearly four years.

Traveller from Tokyo is a concise work that covers a broad range of topics.  The structure of the book allows the reader to have a ground-level view of Japanese culture, while refraining from taking on an Orientalist perspective.    Morris exposes the viewer to Japanese life by picking out facets interesting to Western readers at the time, such as his telephone difficulty: in Japan, it is customary for people to constantly borrow their neighbor’s telephone, since telephones were extremely scarce during the 1930’s.  He emphasizes why owning a personal telephone could become such a problem: people would line up in queues down the street waiting to use it!  Such glimpses into the author’s life help make the work much more personable.

By discussing events such as dining out, Morris is able to elaborate upon Japanese lifestyle in general.  He illustrates customs for Japanese restaurants, as well as their attempts to copy foreign foods.  Morris repeatedly writes about the     Japanese’s ‘imitation’ of foreign cultures and their adaptations to serve their own needs. He explains how the Japanese have taken foreign foods (chiefly British, French, and American cuisines) and altered them to fit their tastes and preferences.  Morris’ chief point is describing how the Japanese are able to assimilate the distinctive traits of other cultures without losing their national identity.   The author declines from portraying incorporation in a negative fashion, and thus does not place the West in any superior way to the East, avoiding any ‘Orientalist’ perspective.

Morris also spends a great deal of time explaining the educational system in Japan.  After middle school, students that wish to continue their education must take a high school entrance exam and then another for college.   The author points out that almost every student’s aim is to secure a government job, which can only be achieved by attending a government-sponsored university.  Government jobs are secure, high paying, and will more than pay back the cost of education, and thus attract the interest of well educated students.  There is a noticeable difference between the Western and Japanese universities that Morris makes sure to highlight: in Japan, there is no one to regulate the students when away from classes (they are free to do as they please, and have no adult supervision or guidance).  The reason for disparity between Western and Japanese students is that Japanese students are more responsible (there have been very few incidents of students causing trouble) and therefore receive more trust from authority than do their Western counterparts.  At no point did Morris ever allude to Japan’s inferiority in education, or portray it in a false light; he very carefully avoided any stereotypical or other racist comments that could portray an Orientalist perspective on Japan.

Traveller from Tokyo is concise in its description of everyday Japanese life, and contains a thorough explanation of how the educational system works relative to the books length.  The author points out differences between Western culture and that of Japan without placing judgmental criticisms on the Japanese.  Unlike many other authors on Eastern culture that attempt to stereotype the Japanese and describe them as inherently different from the West, Morris avoids giving facts based on mere whims and describes things precisely.  He does not place his own commentary on things he cannot accurately depict, and evades the typical ‘Orientalist’ perspective found in most works from the era about the East.  Rather than coming across as a racist and biased book like many other works of the time, Traveller from Tokyo is informative and contains numerous well-grounded thoughts and ideas.  Traveller from Tokyo is an excellent introduction to Japanese culture during and pre-World War II.

Lost Japan by Alex Kerr 276pp $10.70

by Kanako Matsuda

Alex Kerr’s Lost Japan is a deeply personal journey through what he views as a dying Japan. As such, this book is not a mere travel guide on the myriad facets of Japanese culture, but an intimate exploration of the country as experienced by one person. Despite the fact that Lost Japan is essentially a compilation of seemingly unrelated articles, Kerr conveys a common theme which ultimately serves as his message for the readers. Using vivid, flowing details, historical analysis, and above all, passionate dialogue, he successfully incorporates this message: his despair at the modernization of Japanese culture, while simultaneously capturing the beauty of Japan.

His experiences are certainly unlike any other. From the first chapter, “Looking for a Castle”, he makes clear his wild enthusiasm for traditional Japanese architecture, one which he cultivated as a child. He even fashioned for himself a “castle” in Iya Valley, Shikoku, during college, renovating an abandoned home in the mountains. His interests soon evolved to encompass kabuki theater, calligraphy, antiques, and inadvertently, the business world of Tokyo. However, Kerr does not merely express a fleeting curiosity in these subjects; he takes it upon himself to amass as much in-depth knowledge as possible, significantly more than an average traveler, and even indeed, a native. He familiarized himself with the backstage scenes of kabuki, apprehended the rich, connotative styles of kanji characters, and imbibed the plethora of quirks and habits associated with Japanese traditions. Readers will finish this book acknowledging that Kerr is not only a gifted writer, but also a specialist in the “old” Japanese culture.

Kerr describes Japan with such loving, enticing detail that it allows his audience to form an indirect yet strangely genuine connection with his story. In a way, it is heartbreaking. After 1974, Japan undergoes a period of modernization which renders all he valued obsolete. His nostalgic tone then vacillates to hate and bitterness as he outlines the advent of technology. As mentioned before, his careful word choice and tone are a key strategy towards connecting, and almost coercing, the readers into his point of view. Not every reader will have the same attachment as he did to the Buddhist temples or the quaint villages, but with his heartfelt descriptions he can compel the readers to care immensely about the decaying “old” Japan. Thus, when he describes his hatred of technology, the readers will most likely find themselves agreeing with his impassioned argument.

Comparisons are a key component of this book: old versus new, beauty contrasted with ugliness, permanence against ephemerality. He views Kyoto’s attempt at modernization, the construction of the Kyoto tower, as a “symbolic stake through the heart”, because it symbolizes the “new” encroaching on the “old” (192). Kyoto no longer represents scenic elegance, but soulless, gray blocks of buildings. Technology is not progress, but a destructive force. However, once again, Kerr writes with such conviction that it is hard to remember that this view is entirely subjective. Is modernization such a monster he depicts it as? The telephone wires crisscrossing the skyline of the inaka (countryside) are not picturesque, but are entirely necessary for communication. The Gion Matsuri (festival) which he attended in his youth did not showcase yomise (stalls) as they do now, but buying gifts and merchandise is a form of enjoyment in the present. Kerr antagonizes modernization so heavily that he ignores the benefits which it brings.

Once again, Lost Japan is a personal journey for Kerr. No one else can truly understand the depth of his feelings over the changing structure of Japan. No one else can comprehend Japan as he experienced it. Thus, he makes several bold statements which readers may not entirely relate or agree with. One memorable quote, “In Japan, people are conditioned to be satisfied with the average” (122) is used to explain the Japanese educational system. Another is used to justify technology, that “the Japanese are haunted by the insecurity of their cultural identity” (106) and therefore needs progress and identity in the form of modernization. In numerous other general questionable statements I completely disagree with, Kerr insinuates that the Japanese youth lack in individuality and therefore, do not and cannot appreciate “old” Japan. His mistake, in my opinion, is that he stereotypes the Japanese youth as “haters”, when he has no basis for saying so. He should not assume that he accurately perceives every thought of every individual. This is the only time I regard Kerr as a true traveler, a tourist. Even if he has mastered the tea ceremony or developed his own unique style of calligraphy, his understanding of Japan as a whole entity, is lacking in my opinion.

Even with my dissatisfaction with Kerr’s analysis, this book is valuable in that it provides insight into an unfamiliar, disappearing world on an emotional level.  Not many people have the connections which Kerr had to be able to travel Japan in the way he did, which makes his narrative that much more worthwhile. Just with his words, Kerr allows the readers to enjoy Japan as he did, to participate in foreign, exciting practices, and crushingly, to feel the loss of it all. Despite the depressing tone of this book, Kerr ultimately imparts with a glimmer of hope: “At the moment of its disappearance, Japanese traditional culture is having its greatest flowering” (263). Nothing is permanent, but with endings come new beginnings.

The Lady and the Monk by Pico Iyer 352 pp. $11.21 Amazon

By Jordan Cheresnowsky

Born in Oxford, England, Pico Iyer became known for his accounts of his life living outside of set categories. In 1991, Iyer’s travels took him to Japan to live outside of the bustling culture, in the old Japan of poetry. The Lady and the Monk: Four Seasons in Kyoto catalogues Iyer’s year spent in search of Buddhism in Japan. Though religion was his original focus in going to Japan, Iyer’s chance meeting with a young Japanese woman turns his story of traveling into the unknown into hers. Together they share the experience of breaking from the enjoyable to leave only the bittersweet.

Iyer’s year begins in autumn, at the beginning of his dream of living alone in a foreign country where he knows a bare minimum of the language. In the red light district of Kyoto he finds home is tacky yet traditional, the mixture of old and new placing Zen temples next to convenience stores and bars. The mixture of old and new reflects the traditional sense of the old, timeless Japan he seeks, and the more prominent, modernized Japan, presenting a two-sided city. Iyer keeps his opinions of the area moderate, not giving into stereotypes or being critical, and he tries to find the poetic qualities of his new surroundings. Despite the solitude he seeks, Iyer meets up with many Westerners who help close the language gap keeping him from Japan. From artists to those seeking Buddhism, Iyer is able to obtain many different perspectives on Japan, while withholding his own from the reader. “Every statement I made about Japan applied just as surely in the opposite direction,” Iyer states, remaining cautious about his own opinions of Japan. “I might think it odd that Japanese girls cover their mouths whenever they laugh – until I remembered that we were trained to cover our mouths when we yawn” (329).

The true focus of the novel is unclear at first, hidden behind Zen poetry and chance encounters at gaijin bars, or those catering to foreigners. Iyer’s true tale begins to shine when he meets a young woman, Sachiko, at a temple. The comical misunderstandings of their relationship begin at this point, with messages lost in translation between elementary Japanese and broken English. Yet Iyer soon realizes that this relationship is more than casual meetings to discuss music and movies. A love is born, one similar to Madame Butterfly, due to the “pairing of Western men and Eastern women [being] as natural as the partnership of sun and moon” (79) This love is simply because “everyone falls in love with what he cannot begin to understand” (79).

The Lady and the Monk is as much Sachiko’s story as it is Iyer’s. The focus of the novel is not on the mysterious land, or even on travels throughout the country, but on Sachiko’s growth from hesitant housewife with an often-absent husband to an independent woman. Sachiko, for Iyer, reveals the two-sidedness of Japan, the difference between the surface and emotion. On the surface is a highly efficient new-age Japanese mother. She dedicates herself to her children, her husband, and her family, being punctual and proper, and fulfilling every role expected of her. Underneath the shining surface, a whirlpool of emotion bubbles up, manifesting itself only in a teenager’s clothing and obsessions with foreign musicians, like Sting. A woman who was forced to grow up so fast, who was too busy fulfilling duty to truly discover what she wanted for herself, welcomes a friendship with Iyer, the nearest gaijin, as a way of escape.

“Encouraging people to realize their potential was an especially dangerous occupation in a country that taught them to fulfill their duty instead,” Iyer states, realizing the role he begins to play in Sachiko’s life (97). From his perspective as her foreign “savior,” he knows that his role is to stand by her for as long as he can, for the four seasons he will be in Japan. So Iyer teaches her about America, and she teaches him about Japan in turn, mostly causing her to realize the constraints placed upon her own life. Similar to girls whom he saw on one of his first trips to a gaijin bar, Japanese women are meant to play their role, to dance perfectly in unison, to fulfill expectations. Still, the story of the lady, Sachiko, and Iyer, the monk, moves across the four seasons, while their love for one another grows. He helps her break from the constraints of Japanese society and stand on her own while he experiences Japan with a woman at his side, his Madame Butterfly. However, Sachiko is the one who holds control over Iyer. The role of Madame Butterfly is truly played by Iyer, the foreign mystery there to liberate and then be done with.

“I little sad feeling,” Sachiko repeatedly states throughout the book, whether the situation is happy or sad, which Iyer comes to understand. The fleeting moment, the beauty of what once was, is something to be treasured in Japanese culture. Iyer and Sachiko’s journey is truly about breaking from what is enjoyable, such as love, leaving only a bittersweet feeling behind. Iyer flawlessly depicts Japan as well as his journey, providing an enjoyable read and glimpse into a foreign land. I believe Iyer’s is a wonderful story of love, one that can be used to understand the people, though not necessarily Japan.

Hitching Rides with Buddha by William Ferguson 432 pp. Cannongate $14.00

by Paul Atienza

If you are a gaijin (foreigner) who wants to be exposed to real Japanese culture, then hitchhike the archipelago with Will Ferguson in Hitching Rides with Buddha.

The Sakura Zensen or the “Cherry Blossom Front” is a whirlwind of flower petals that travels throughout Japan from south to north. It has been said to mark the culmination of winter as well as the commencement of spring. This phenomenon is often observed through joyous celebrations at parties with friends or deep reflections of life at cemeteries.  At one fateful cherry blossom party or hanami, Will Ferguson, Canadian writer and English teacher who was drunker than in previous years, proclaimed to his colleagues of his plans to follow the Cherry Blossom Front. Three years later he set out on his journey from his residence on the remote Amakusa Islands all the way to the northern end of Japan, Hokkaido. Despite others’ suggestions of taking the train to reach his destination, Ferguson decided to hitchhike in order to travel with the Japanese instead of viewing from afar, being the first ever to do so. In the course of four hundred pages, Ferguson encounters an assorted bunch of characters ranging from a university professor to a mafia man to sailors. In addition, Ferguson visits various locations and landmarks including shrines to the many gods of Shinto, castles from the Warring States Era, an island with the “Wisest Monkeys in Japan,” and even a museum devoted to sex. To add to the places he visits, he includes brief and informative histories of Shintoism, of different eras, folklore, and as well as famous people in the past and present such as sumo wrestler “The Wolf” (Chiyonofuji). All in all, he begins to understand Japan as much as a foreigner possibly could. Through his humor and recurring racial stereotypes, Ferguson determines the role of a foreigner in Japan which is a paradoxical one where the person is and is not part of the country.

Due to Ferguson’s spontaneous mindset, most of the events in Hitching Rides with Buddha come off as humorous, differentiating his book from other travelogues. Most writings about travels would probably talk about the dry history in a poetic or romanticized fashion or just have the entire journey comedic. However, Ferguson has an informative while fun experience in Japan accentuated with the hitchhiking aspect and the addition of interesting historical information and folklore. His interactions with various people make Ferguson’s humor apparent. For example, Ferguson met a man who pestered him by practicing his English with a barrage of pointless as well as prejudiced questions. It is through these encounters that Ferguson’s voice is heard in the form of his stream of consciousness writing style. He basically comments on the situations mostly suggesting that the Japanese are still strange and foreign to him despite living in Japan for a considerable amount of time. It is through his writing style that he comes off as funny by the way he presents these encounters. Also, Ferguson’s spontaneity adds to his humor in addition to hitchhiking. He does not really have a detailed itinerary of everything he will do on his journey, but instead Ferguson makes spur-of-the-moment decisions that frequently put him in life threatening yet hilarious states i.e. his traumatic snake incident on the island with the “Wisest Monkeys in Japan.” Such impulsive actions add to the unpredictability of his work, making it interesting. Seeing all of these events and places makes Ferguson feel like an outsider of Japan because of their novelty. Through hitchhiking, Ferguson illustrates that the act of going on an adventure in itself is enjoyable, which is made apparent in his humor with his entire journey.

Also through these diverse encounters, prevalent themes of racial stereotypes reveal themselves such as the constant mistaken references of Ferguson as an American despite of the fact that he is a Canadian. That example theme parallels the Western, Orientalist stereotype of all Asians being the same despite originating from different countries such as China or Korea. The Japanese pride in their technology as “number one” presents another theme that parallels the West. In the past around the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries, Westerners had pride in themselves too in which they believed that they were a dominant and superior influence in the world through their imperialistic efforts. These themes provide a glimpse of the similarities between the Japanese and the Westerners despite aesthetic and geographic differences.

Overall, Ferguson is able to show a reality of a travel in Japan for Westerners, establishing the place of foreigners in Japan where they are seen as part of the country, while at the same time not. The Westerners are part of Japan in the similarities of both reflected in the racial stereotype themes of pride and mistaking other races’ identities. Ferguson’s humor that comes with his descriptions of the multitude of meetings he has with the Japanese reflects a Western view of Japan, that the people are novel, strange, and odd. Through that mindset of Japan, Ferguson is still just an outsider despite having lived in Japan for a considerable amount of time. Therefore, Hitching Rides with Buddha truly exemplifies a realistic trip for a foreigner in Japan.

A Circle Round The Sun: A Foreigner In Japan by Peregrine Hodson 305 pp. William Heinemann Ltd.$16.99

by Angel Zhang Junnan

A Circle Round The Sun (1992) by Peregrine Hodson took a full circle around Japanese culture in search of the heart of Japan. This book was presented in the form of a diary which was written by him as a banker during his return visit in Japan. Hodson is an English man that speaks fluent Japanese and he became comfortable with daily life in Japan due to his previous experience as a student, but his understanding of Japan was very shallow. In his book, the author initially tried to gain a deeper understanding of Japan but in the end he realized that it is impossible because Japan is incomprehensible. Hodson started his journey by participating in many traditional Japanese rituals; however, rather than gaining a deeper understanding, he found himself lost and gained nothing. Eventually, he returned to England convinced Japan is impenetrable.

Hodson went through a process of returning to a familiar Japan and eventually becoming an expert on “real” Japan, as he terms it, however, he had a sudden a realization of his status as an outsider. This particular characterization is a stereotype of a Japan which is closed to foreigners. This is surprising given Hodson’s knowledge of the language and culture. In addition, not only is Japanese culture hard to comprehend, but the book is also hard to read. The fragmentary sections of diary do not integrate as a whole. His mentioned many trivial details in his daily life, but he never got a chance to take a look of the big picture. That might be the reason for his inability to understand Japan.

Even though he felt at home and his friends consider him as an expert on Japan, he still cannot assimilate into Japanese culture; because he learned only Japanese people can understand Japanese. When he first came back, he thought he knew the language, the customs, and the culture and therefore he could behave like “real” Japanese. Additionally, other foreigners considered him as an expert and always asked him to introduce them to the “real” Japan. For instance, he went with Tanya, his girlfriend, for the annual viewing of cherry blossoms and to enjoy the hot spring. By doing things that native Japanese would do, he considered himself Japanese. On the contrary, he felt isolated from his colleagues at work and was considered a foreigner even though he could speak perfect Japanese. He was asked by several people whether he is a spy or not. He seemed to be really hurt and after being repeatedly questioned he answered:“Yes, I am a spy, like everyone who wants to understand another country.”(205) Through Hodson’s story, we can see his unremitting effort to comprehend Japanese culture. Nonetheless, it was not very successful.

From his experience, Hodson portrayed the Japanese as “ignorant” by his friend Johnny’s death. In this particular scenario people did nothing to either help him or prevent him from committing suicide. Therefore, Hodson expressed his disapproval of Japan’s “ignorant” by stating “Sometimes doing nothing does more harm than doing something.” (212) Silence and sameness are also characteristics he found in Japanese people.

Later in the diary, he talked about his encounter with Fujiko which is a turning point in the book. He realized the irreconcilable difference between the cultures in his relationship with Fujiko, especially when he saw Fujiko’s black hair. After the long search for the Japanese heart, he conceived Japan

“as a labyrinth which anyone who wants to understand the Japanese has to enter in order to find, somewhere in the middle of it, at the centre, the secret of Japan. But the labyrinth has a curious effect on people who enter it; gradually as one gets towards the middle one forgets where one is coming from, who one is and why one is there, so that by the time one actually reaches the centre of the maze and finds the secret of Japan, it has no meaning.” (227)

When he started searching for the heart of Japan, he did not recognize Japan is a maze. Therefore he spent many efforts to search for the prize located in the center; however the prize has no meaning to him. Mainly because the core value of Japan can only be understood by Japanese people, therefore the prize did not make sense to him. Thus this journey became meaningless and he can attain nothing from it. It seems like he have traveled in a circle for years and found that no meaning came out of it. That’s the only conclusion he got from his time spent in Japan: nothing.  

I think the author made a great combination of his idea in the title of the book-A Circle Round The Sun. First of all, it symbolizes the Japanese flag by vividly describing the color and shape and also refers to the sun as the origin of Japanese people. Secondly, it illustrates of author’s final conclusion about Japan: the journey to explore Japanese culture is going like a circle and you will end up in the same place as you started it being an outsider. Consequently, Japanese culture can only be revealed to its own people but not foreigners.

A Year in Japan by Kate T. Williamson 192 pp. Princeton Architectural Press $13.57

by Luis Madrid

The mysteries of the Orient have always attracted the attention and captured the imagination of the Western world: in both the elaborate ceremonies and distinctive day-to-day traditions of Eastern culture, the Occidental mind discovers not only an endless source of fascination, but also an expanded perspective upon alternate lifestyles. In her short work, A Year in Japan (日本の一年), Kate T. Williamson chronicles the details of her journey and offers the reader a unique portrayal of Japan as a country of both modern innovation and unusual anachronisms—a nation where past and present coexist within customs to create one of the world’s most remarkable cultures.

Throughout the journal, Williamson engages Japan through several different mediums, each unveiling a different aspect of the country’s rich and diverse character. Furthermore, rather than focusing upon topics that have already been overused in other works—such as the bizarre fashions of Harajuku or the innate, prevalent courtesy of the population—the author strives to present new topics to her readers, supplemented with a variety of exquisite watercolor paintings and her own insightful observations. One of Williamson’s favorite techniques is to introduce and analyze Japan in the context of its distinctive material culture: from carefully plastic-wrapped apples to convenient, space-efficient electric rugs, she draws conclusions regarding the nature and mentality of the society that produced these items.

One notable example of this tendency is the cultural significance that Williamson attaches to simple items, such as washcloths. In a chapter entitled “Beauty and Washcloths,” the young author recounts her fascination with the breathtaking color and variety present within the washcloths displayed at one of Kyoto’s department stores. Williamson is quick to juxtapose the consummate detail and effort that is required to fashion these products with the “neutral bathroom hues” of their American counterparts, which she characterizes and dismisses as being exclusively confined to some “fourth-floor linen department” (Williamson 5). From these painstakingly crafted washcloths—actually used to dry one’s hands in public restrooms—Williamson concludes that the “details of beauty” and “nuances of word and deed” expressed by these simple, mundane items are key elements to understanding the social culture of Japan (6). Furthermore, she asserts that this attention to the detail behind appearance and action is not only appreciated by the indigenous population, but also expected in most cases (6).

In another variation of this principle, Williamson invites the reader to draw parallels between the manner in which Japanese view and define art and the remarkable flexibility of their culture when it comes to adapting and preserving elements of the past. For example, when she is presented with a recently repaired pottery bowl on display at a museum, the author is surprised to see that instead of reconstructing the fractures with a similarly colored material, a distinctive metallic gold was used. As she later learns, this event is expressive of the Japanese perception and preservation of art; in other words, when certain pieces of art are repaired, the craftsman is encouraged to leave behind some trace of his efforts. In this fashion, these pieces continue to evolve over time, adopting new forms as needed and eventually transforming into entirely new art (Williamson 107).

This belief, which differs radically from the techniques of aestheticism employed by the West, can also be applied in terms of understanding certain aspects of Japanese society as a whole. In particular, Japan’s remarkable ability to adapt traditional elements of its culture serves as an excellent example of this principle. Unlike many past figures from Western culture, several of Japan’s traditional icons are still in existence, having successfully adapted to the many changes of the twenty-first century. A Year in Japan captures not only two of these encounters, but also portrays the author’s amazement at the contemporary lifestyles of these personages.

First of these is Williamson’s lunchtime rendezvous with an acquaintance and his friend, who works as a geisha. Although the author takes a few pages to explain the origin, nature, and concept of the Japanese geisha, her true focus is centered upon the manner in which a traditional figure often historically associated with mystery and beauty can partake in an activity as mundane as ordering an egg sandwich at a café (Williamson 92). In essence, this event is evocative of the fluidity with which Japan is able to adapt aspects of its culture to change; certainly, there are few countries today that retain such a large portion of their traditional culture while also utilizing extremely advanced technology. The author’s experience with sumo wrestlers is set along similar lines: as these athletes are usually associated with lack of clothing, bare feet, and traditional ceremonies, Williamson was no doubt surprised to observe two sumo wrestlers dressed in bathrobes, wearing glasses, and Nikes.

Ultimately, the portrayal of Japan employed by Williamson in A Year in Japan draws its most unique and poignant elements from its disparities with the narrow kinds of imagery that are traditionally associated with the island nation. By presenting thought-provoking material to a primarily Western audience in a novel fashion, the author creates an enduring and highly individualistic narrative of her travels in Japan, as well as the manner in which they allowed her to expand her horizons and improve her understanding of a culture utterly different from her own.

A Ride in the Neon Sun: A Gaijin in Japan by Josie Dew 699 pp. Time Warner £6.39

by Dylan

A Ride in the Neon Sun: A Gaijin in Japan is a travelogue of Japan by Josie Dew that chronicles Dew’s experiences cycling throughout Japan, after arriving in the country unexpectedly. Dew comes into Japan knowing extremely little and has to rely on a few acquaintances, and mostly just herself to navigate the country. A Ride in the Neon Sun is extremely well written and enjoyable to read. It appears to just be a chronicle of Dew’s trip to Japan and is successful in doing so, but it is also more than that. Dew attempts and appears to succeed in explaining various aspects of Japanese culture, both broad and general. The book is broken down into shorter sections chronicling her experiences with one aspect of Japanese culture. There is never any focus on one particular topic or city for too long. I would describe Dew’s sections as being made up of disparate parts that, when put together, paint a more holistic picture of Dew’s trip throughout Japan, and of Japan itself.

Sections in the book contain three main aspects. First, there is factual information on the places Dew visits or things she sees. For example, when Dew arrives in Tokyo she first gives information like “the area is so massively industrial and so hugely productive that, if it were an independent nation, it would produce more goods and services than the whole of Great Britain” (48). Second, there is what Dew herself sees or does. Third, there is analysis from Dew on Japanese culture that relates to whatever she is talking about in the section. This analysis about Japanese culture is presented as factual, rather than opinionated. The formula is quite engaging and successful, however it becomes a bit deviating at times, and makes it difficult to fully focus what she is actually experiencing in Japan.

When Dew does focus on what she is seeing and doing in Japan, it is presented with an innocent curiosity that makes you want to read more about whatever she is experiencing. And in describing an experience, she does it with a level of detail that immerses you into her travels. For example, when taking a train to Tokyo, Dew describes the girls she sees on the train as wearing “navy-blue sailor suits, sensible ‘matronly’ black shoes and spotless white socks hoisted to the knee” (32). Dew seems to be immersed and enthusiastic in whatever she is seeing or doing, and it definitely comes across that way to the reader, and draws you into her experiences.

But the most interesting part of Dew’s sections is when she explains Japanese culture. An example of this is when Dew just arrives in Japan and is in a hotel room that she describes as “the simple and the ugly; the silence and the noise. These two opposites standing paradoxically beside each other were to appear to me time and time again as a stark epitome of Japan” (17). It seems rash when Dew judges the culture that in the context of the book she is just experiencing. This is especially true in beginning, like in her hotel room. She posits her thoughts not as theories, but as facts deemed by her. But they do seem accurate, and paint a vivid picture of Japan.  There are stereotypes I have heard that are rehashed, but there are also new ideas about Japan are presented too.

Of the cultural aspects that Dew runs into in Japan, she expects some while others seem surprising to her. Examples of both can be found on the train I mentioned earlier. Dew knows on that train that “to blow, or even wipe, one’s nose in public is the height of bad manners” (34). These things she comes in knowing are reinforced by her experiences, like when she needs to sneeze on the train. But there are also unexpected things like when she notices on the train, “the choice of reading material for most salarymen took me by surprise. Comics” (32). Dew’s current voice is then replaced by what seems like her looking back and explaining the culture of manga in Japan. Both of these explanation methods of Japanese culture are frequent throughout the book, and both are effective in portraying and elucidating Japanese culture.

The combination of these three aspects of each passage in the book makes all of the passages interesting and keeps your attention. In addition, the combination allows you to be immersed in her journey, while also learning about and “experiencing” Japan. The use of the shorter passages themselves is probably representative of Dew’s journey: she experiences many things and her attention is often diverted into some other new occurrence.

Overall, A Ride in the Neon Sun: A Gaijin in Japan provides a great picture of Japan for those visiting, or who just want to read about a far off land. It’s expertly written and is about the journey of a woman who is so open and enthusiastic about what she experiences, that she makes you want to experience Japan for yourself.

Traveler’s Tales Japan: True Stories by Donald George and Amy Carlson 411 pp. Traveler’s Tales Inc. $18.95

by Jenny Lee

Through voices from established travel writers such as Alan Booth, Pico Iyre, Dave Berry and the voices of the average traveler, Travelers’ Tales Japan: True Stories offers encounters to experience or to avoid. The book expresses appreciation and a newfound enlightenment through experiences in Japan. Tales Japan parallels a guidebook, though it relies on subjective encounters over objective information. From serene temples to high-tech toilets, it creates a heterogeneous image of Japan as it breaks the country’s stereotypical barrier of impenetrability. Editors Donald George and Amy Carlson successfully push the idea that anyone can find solace and understanding within Japan’s mysticism — and it’s outrageous modernity. At the same time, however, the editors also highlight the strains between Western foreigner and Japanese native, something I found unique about this travelogue.

Tales Japan contradicts Japan’s impenetrable reputation in the first section, “Essence of Japan.” Though the narratives in this section capture Japan’s morals and values, they also support the idea that travelers can relate to traditional Japanese customs, regardless of whether they fully grasp Japan’s theology or not. Brad Newsham’s “Smo,” for instance, portrays the importance of timing and the necessity of intimidation in sumo wrestling. However, Newsham also feels connected to a sumo wrestler he sees on the street, as he emphasizes the wrestler’s docile and bewildered behavior among the crowd. The wrestler looked lost — just as Newsham feels as a foreigner in Japan. Thus, Newsham mitigates the reader’s insecurities about displacement in a seemingly barricaded Japan. Even though one might feel displaced, one is able to parallel one’s sentiments with the Japanese, for even one of Japan’s iconic symbols of tenacity — the sumo wrestler — looked lost in his own country.

Though penetrable, Japan is not always a place one can empathize with due to its modern quirks. “Things to Do,” the second section, playfully characterizes expected or unexpected activities a foreigner can experience in Japan, whether it is taking the traditional flower arranging, ikebana, class or going all-out native by scavenging local trash heaps. Steve Bailey’s “Of Gomi and Gaijin” gives the reader a disgustingly tasteful experience as he prowled through Osaka gomi, or trash piles. Bailey explains it is rude to give one’s old belongings to a friend or neighbor. Instead, one throws one’s old things out into the gomi, and others are allowed to take home up whatever they find. Being, “the most inexplicable and undignified of eccentricities,” gomi hunting is exemplary in how Tales Japan lives up to its reputation of portraying an accurate depiction of Japan (148). Although foreingers like Newsham can find consolation in their experience, Bailey shares a unique tale only Japan can offer. This section, in effect, illustrates Japan’s distinctive edge and unique appeal; it invites the reader to experience Japan not only through its traditional activities, but through its oddities as well. I found this section to be the most appealing part of the book, as the writers exposed me to unknown parts of the Japanese culture and convinced me to visit a place where I can expect things to be different. 

Tales Japan continues to rectify common Japanese stereotypes in section three, “Going Your Own Way,” where people take on personal journeys and learn how common assumptions about Japan are not always true. Through her experience in the Miyama rice fields, Leila Philip discovers the resoluteness and strength of Japanese women in “Rice Harvest.” Though usually thought of as submissive, Japanese women do not conform to this generalization. Philip realizes that, after having reached an age of respect in Japanese society, rural women “drop the pro forma fame subservience” and are outspoken and frank as they bicker about others and chide Philip as they correct her harvesting methods (298). Philip also commends Japanese women who “rule the house, the children, and even the family finances with an iron fist” (299). Through stories like Philip’s, one can discover the real Japan. Using the experiences and discoveries of others as a guide, Tales Japan encourages its readers to travel to Japan and personally break the country’s myths. Only by traveling to Japan and immersing oneself in its culture can people distinguish reality from misconception.

“In the Shadows”, the most powerful section of Tales Japan, contains the narratives I found most meaningful. By peeling away Japan’s playful façade, the writers provide a truthful overview of Japan’s darker side — its irritability of Westerners. In Alan Booth’s “A Thousand Cranes, A Thousand Suns,” Booth struggles with a contemptuous Japanese worker at the Hiroshima Peace Park, which displays the damage done by the atomic bombs during World War II. The aged worker blames Booth for the damage done to his country. Though the man eventually apologizes, Booth concludes with grim optimism, hoping that the historical mistake will never be repeated. By making this the last section of travelogues, Tales Japan is not afraid to comment on the negative realities that lie within Japan. In the end, no one has ever forgotten the strained relationship between foreigner and native.

Overall, Tales Japan provides a truthful and accurate depiction of Japan. I would recommend this book to any prospective tourist because it makes Japan identifiable, but also attractively eccentric at the same time. Additionally, with the different voices presented, Tales Japan allows the reader form their own opinion of Japan; he or she can pick and choose the voices they find more appealing or can empathize with.

Hokkaido Highway Blues: Hitchhiking Japan by Will Ferguson 448 pp. Canongate $22.95

by Greg Kirwin

Will Ferguson begins his journey through Japan in Hokkaido Highway Blues: Hitchhiking Japan with a drunken promise to hitchhike from the southern to the northern tips of Japan, following the cherry blossoms in the spring. The following extensive trip encompassing both the heavily populated urban centers of Japan and the small villages in between is enthralling and descriptive. What makes the difference for Ferguson is his mode of travel. Hitchhiking allows Ferguson to interact with the Japanese people in a very intimate and unique fashion, giving him glimpses of their culture and language, though he often reverts to generalizations when attempting to understand the heart of the nation.

Ferguson enjoys the adventure inherent in relying on others to get one to a destination. Though the Japanese are very polite with, if not afraid of, foreigners, he has little trouble finding a ride for a significant portion of the book. Near the middle of his journey, he remarks that he had already been able to hitchhike with 27 drivers (Ferguson 254). Taking this number into consideration, Ferguson had close to 50 unique drivers during the course of his adventure, with “[fifty] cars. [Fifty] ‘Hellos.’ [Fifty] ‘What is your names?’” (254). Needless to say, this method of travel provides personal insight into the lives of the many different people Ferguson travels with: fishermen, businessmen, mothers, fathers, families, retirees, other teachers, and womanizers. Each driver’s unique perspective adds to the idea of a vastly different Japan.

Having already lived in Japan for a number of years, Ferguson is familiar with the people, the language, and the culture, to a certain extent. His repertoire of Japanese is fairly limited. He enjoys many parts of the Japanese culture and tradition, but often relegates it to grand generalizations that fail to capture the finer aspects of whatever he is writing about. For example, he compresses Japanese celebrations to the following: “Cherry blossoms: drunk on saké; wildflowers: drunk on saké; harvest moon: drunk on saké…” (6). Not much cultural information can be gleaned from such a reduction. In fact, Ferguson uses every possible “teachable” moment to generalize the Japanese culture. There are many factoids like “[i]n Japan, male bonding generally involves a lot of drunken laughter” (91) that do nothing with the information that could have been gathered from the book. Perhaps he wanted to take individuals and relate them together, but when he has only spoken to twenty people in the city, it is difficult to believe his assumptions are correct. In fact, Ferguson encounters this problem when kind citizens are accused of indifference to the hitchhiker on a particularly rainy day. Ferguson has the ability to share profound thoughts, but tries too hard to make them universal for the Japanese.

One of the most important aspects of Hokkaido Highway Blues is the personal insight obtained from Ferguson’s existence as a foreigner in Japan. Just as it has been throughout history, Ferguson finds that Japan is closed off to outsiders, reluctant to include them in its traditions. At several points in the book, the author feels he is unable to connect to any of those around him: “The Japanese are not a coldhearted people… The problem is… [y]ou are welcome as an outsider… The door is open but the chain is on” (115). Ferguson is thus twice removed, from his family in Canada, and his friends from his workplace in Kyushu. Out in the rest of Japan, he is more feared and treated as a curio, especially in the smaller villages he visits on his way to Hokkaido. Ferguson ends his travels with more personal discoveries than about the people he meets along the way, like his own feelings towards the Japanese, and about his capacity to rely completely on others’ charitability for transportation.

Even through all of the interactions with hundreds of people in the space of a couple months, Ferguson is still ultimately a foreigner, reduced to observance of culture, rather than submersion in it. This being said, there is still a very intimate level of engagement on the author’s part when he is, for example, talking to other Japanese travelers, or discussing dialects and cultural boundaries with innkeepers (231, 369). Several times, Ferguson is made to consider his purpose in the country, and whether or not he should give up on his journey, because he cannot connect to others the way he would like. However, more often than not, a kind soul aids him with whatever problems he may have, speaking to the politeness and manners of the Japanese. Oddly enough, Ferguson fails to draw this conclusion. The author thus misses his own purpose by turning the focus of his writing inwards where it may serve a better purpose outwards.

While Hokkaido Highway Blues may be an entertaining and contemporary travelogue through Japan, it falters where the author simply stays on the surface level of interaction and insight. Ferguson chooses to focus his book on himself, allowing him to form generalizations instead of finding the “heart of Japan” while chasing the sakura. By the end, it is obvious to the reader that the important aspect of the book is not the cherry blossoms, but the people in each niche of Japanese life. The true center of Japan eludes Ferguson in writing, though it seems he may have already found it in the people he meets in getting to Hokkaido.

Thomas Barto is, by and large, a boy who focuses on what he enjoys. What he enjoys, in this instance, is the anime-manga-game trinity of modern Japanese popular culture. However, he resists categorization as an “otaku,” which is frankly a limiting and blinkered worldview unsuited to the globalized informational environment of the 21^st century. He attempts to subsist on an undifferentiated diet of media, scavenging what scraps of entertainment he can from the dust of the world like a vulture picking over a delicious, tentacles-and-schoolgirls-filled corpse.

That said, it’s not like he doesn’t know or care that there’s more to Japan than Samurai Champloo and Rurouni Kenshin. He finds the political history of the island fascinating; its culture and social norms are a wonderfully intricate puzzle with lots of shiny bits and moving pieces for him to mess around with and figure out. He wrote a four-thousand-word essay on the fall of the Tokugawa shogunate in his senior year of high school.

Thomas’ interest in Japan can actually be traced back to when he watched Outlaw Star on Cartoon Network at his grandparents’ house when he was about 7. Nothing came of it until his friend loaned him a copy of Angelic Layer in sixth grade, at which point he was basically doomed for life. His interest in Japan past manga and anime, however, can be traced to James Clavell’s Gai-Jin, which was basically all kinds of interesting and provoked him to learn more.

In his free time he enjoys Minecraft and tabletop RPGs, especially White Wolf’s anime-inspired epic fantasy Exalted. He means no harm, and his only desire is to be your friend.

My name is Kanako Matsuda and I’m a freshman at the College of William and Mary. My plan is to major in either Chemistry or Biology, but that’s only because I have no idea what I want to do as a future career and majoring in the sciences seems like a safe bet. What I do know is that I like to dance, paint, draw, and add to my plethora of useless trivia knowledge by relentlessly surfing the web.

An important fact about me that I absolutely must get across is that I’m Japanese. This is pretty obvious from looking at my name, yes, but my love for Japan is something that can’t be communicated as easily. Growing up, Pokémon and Doraemon (the cartoon about the adorable robot cat from the 22^nd century) basically were my Saturday morning cartoons, and natto (fermented beans) was what I considered the ultimate comfort food. Since then I’ve moved onto obsessively watching Japanese dramas, listening to obscure J-rock, and maintaining a constant supply of Pocky. Summer of my junior year, I was fortunate enough to visit my relatives in Japan. Needless to say, it was an eye-opening experience.

Coming to William and Mary, I was eager to enroll in as many classes on Japan as possible since my high school fell tragically short in that department. Japanophilia seemed to be the ideal freshman seminar to take, and thus, here I am writing my bio for this web page at 4:30 am. Sleep-deprivation aside, I’m pretty pleased to be here. ^.^

友達と写真をとるのが好き！！

Hello, everyone! My name is Luis Madrid and I’m a freshman intending to major in Global Studies at the College of William & Mary. As a 90s kid who grew up in the age of iconic animes (such as Sailor Moon, Dragon Ball Z and Pokemon), I’ve been interested in Japan for some time now. While my curiosity extended only as far as the realm of anime at first, it soon expanded into a broader appreciation for Japanese culture, supplemented by the environmentalist overtones of Hayao Miyazaki’s films and well-publicized literature such as Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha. However, it wasn’t until after I attended the 2010 Virginia Governor’s Language Academy that my academic interests in Japanese began to take shape. Now studying the language at the 201 Level, I’m looking forward to further expanding my knowledge of Japan’s culture from both a classical and contemporary perspective.

Like most kids in America, I grew up watching Saturday morning cartoons while eating a gigantic bowl of cereal. For me, the cartoon block started with Yugioh at eight o’clock and ended with Pokemon at ten o’clock. The elements from the show that struck me the most were the overly animated expressions, the powerful, manly voice overs i.e. Yami Yugi from Yugioh, and the fantastical plots. I also remember that I would try to imitate Yugioh’s deep voice whenever I played the card game with my friends at school. I started to associate the characters from the shows with the essence of coolness. However, unbeknownst to me at the time, these cartoons were made in Japan.

So the reason that I decided to take Japanophilia was that I wanted to learn more about the culture of Japan besides the cartoons and what I learned in history class. This class is going to be legendary.

I’m currently a Freshman, and I’m considering majoring in Japanese. The summer after my junior year of high school, I traveled to northern Japan with a student immersion group, and I’d love to return to Japan to study further. My earliest exposure to Japan and its culture was the Japan exhibit in the National Children’s Museum, and Maira Kalman’s Sayonara, Mrs. Kackleman.

http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1171305699l/95799.jpg

Greg’s interest in Japan has piqued recently after he learned some part-Japanese relatives were moving to Tokyo this year, and after he found himself helpless in trying to understand his bilingual cousins (taking care of a two-year-old bilingual in Japanese and English is difficult) or much of the Japanese culture they attempted to douse him in. At the moment, there are no plans to learn the Japanese language… but four years of college leaves a lot of time to consider whether he wishes to take up another language! He loks forward to understanding the culture this portion of his family will be embracing, as well as the history Japan has had with the West and their mutual influences on each other.

This fits nicely into Greg’s intentions to major in Economics (possibly with a double major in sociology), as the global economy is now more connected and interdependent than ever; with the US and Japan sitting in #1 and #4, respectively, for the world’s largest economies, it will be important to understand the myriad ways that we depend on each other for trade. William & Mary is a great school to learn about the economy; 319 years of experience have served it well.

Greg spends his time outside of the Japanophilia class running (lots and lots of running), playing his bass, and browsing The Economist and Adweek in order to stay up-to-date on both the global and domestic markets we are all a part of.

Me and my bass

こんにちは !

My name is Jenny Lee, and I’m currently an English major at the College of William and Mary. As a child, I had always been exposed to Japanese merchandise and cartoon shows, which ranged from magical heroines like Sailor Moon to the adorable electric mouse Pikachu from Pokemon. However, I was never aware that all these things were Japanese – or Asian, for that matter.

Back in middle school, I used to be an avid fan and collector of anime goods like most American otaku do today. Though nowadays, I consider myself a “closet” anime fan. I also admire acclaimed filmmaker Hayao Miyazaki, particularly for his adaptation of Howl’s Moving Castle by British author Diana Wynne Jones, and also for his own enrapturing fairytale, Spirited Away.

But besides cartoons, the reason I decided to join this class was in hopes of wondering how Japan became such a dominant cultural superpower in such a small amount of time – and in a highly efficient way. Additionally, I hope to learn more about the ways in which the Western views of Japan continue permeate our society today . . . and also to know how other people perceive this super ‘cool’ and ‘kawaii’ country!ヽ(● ω ●)ノ

Hello! My name is Jordan Cheresnowsky and I am planning on being an East Asian Studies major with a minor Japanese at the College of William and Mary. My general interest in Japan began in eighth grade when a friend of mine threw a volume of manga at me, claiming that I would like it because of the pink and girly cover. Obviously I did, but not for the story. Growing up in a small town I did not experience foreign cultures too often. To be holding another country’s art form, their literature, in my hands and be able to see how lives were different overseas drastically changed my life. I could not get enough of the Japanese culture, reading everything from manga to light novels, online blogs to travel books, and even the occasional historical account. The summer of my junior year I dove headfirst into the Japanese language by attending the Virginia Governor’s Japanese Language Academy for three weeks. By the time I went home I realized my dream of becoming a Japanese translator, so I could one day bring to the English-speaking world the books and works that changed my perspective so drastically.

(Of course my mother would tell me years after my general interest in Asia began that when I was younger she kept me away from Japanese animation, like Sailor Moon, because the eyes freaked her out. It seems to have backfired just a bit.)

like to become more informed about the country and its culture.  Of the little I do know about Japan, I find extremely interesting. I am

planning on majoring in Environmental Science, and am aware that Japan is attempting to reform its harmful environmental practices (which all countries have), to help sustain the environment for future generations. This is a wonderful idea, and in my opinion, the United States can learn from the Japanese about better environmental practices. Not only does Japan’s eco-friendly ideals appeal to me, but I am interested in learning more about what is and is not true about Japan and its culture, and being able to erase any misconceptions I may have about the country, and may not even be aware of.  I wish to come out of Japanophilia a more informed person about the Japanese way of life, more culturally sensitive, and more appreciative of the Japanese lifestyle. Like most kids growing up in the ‘90s, I was obsessed with Pokemon.  I collected every one of the original 150 cards in the series, except for Charizard (which I am still bitter about to this day). I have fond memories of waking up every morning extra early to watch the Pokemon show on television before school.  I didn’t care if the episode was new or a re-run; I just loved seeing the cute, happy, and exciting quirky creatures come to life in front of me every day. I am ready to learn more about Japan this semester, and hopefully to erase any stereotypes and pre-conceived notions I may have about the country.

Don't worry; it's Butterbeer

Hello, World! My name is Emily Wells and I hail from the land of oranges, alligators, and anthropomorphic mice. I am a freshman at William and Mary majoring in Figuring It Out and a new member of the Japanese Culture and Anime clubs. I have been interested in Asia (starting with China) since elementary school, and soon started reading CLAMP manga and trying in vain to teach myself Japanese from a book. I spent most of high school watching as much anime as I could get ahold of and cosplaying at conventions with friends. Now, my aim is to not only educate myself about the country’s history and politics, but to educate others and show them that it’s a lot more than Sailor Moon, sushi, and bizarre game shows.

Hello everybody~ My name is Junnan (Angel) Zhang. I am a freshman at College of William and Mary and I intend to major in International Relations and  minor in Accounting.

The city I lived back in China is quite close to Japan and the very first few things that I remembered about Japan is the food and the cloth. They offer all kinds of pretty dishes which I always like to try, such as takoyaki(たこやき), sukiyaki (すきやき), sushi(すし), tempura(てんぷら) and soba(そば). And I always dreamed of buying a beautiful kimono when I get older. Fortunately, I was also blessed with the privilege of learning Japanese in middle school and obtained a certificate of Level 2 of Japanese-Language Proficiency, which enabled me to watch the anime and drama in Japanese! I loved Conan, Ouran High School Host Club, Nodame Cantabile, SA Special, Moon Lovers and so on. The most fascinating thing is that I was planning to go to Japan for College at first but I ended up coming to America!

 I have always found flower arrangement (ikebana) and Tea ceremony (sado) amazing and I have learned a little bit by myself. I figured if I go to Japan, I will definitely gain a better understanding and that’s my game plan for next summer!

Here I want to share with you my favorite Japanese song called YELL. And the line I liked the most is :「さよならは悲しい言葉じゃない」(Farewell is not a sad word)

Click here to view the embedded video.

Here is some info about me. I’m a computer geek. Here is some text about me. I can keep typing so that the image has some text next to it to show how it looks right justified

“Pornography is the unconsciousness of sex. Noise is the unconsciousness of music. Merzbow is erotic like a car crash can be related to genital intercourse. The sound of Merzbow is like Orgone energy– the color of shiny silver. ”

Masami Akita, AKA Merzbow [1]

Spiral Blast

As is the case with any musical genre, the historicizing of the influences and origins of noise comes to be an exercise in retroactive mythmaking. Some trace Japanoise to the experimentations of British industrial groups such as Throbbing Gristle, others to the more academic works of composers such as Karlheinz Stockhausen. Masami Akita however, known to the world as Merzbow, one of the most influential and enduring Japanese noise artists, states that he simply had no musical influences whatsoever, instead drawing a line between himself and the Surrealists and Dadaists of the art world, taking his stage name from Karl Schwitters’ “Psychological Collage” architecture piece the Merzbau. In any case, a number of Japanese noise artists appeared in the early 1980s who differentiated themselves from any comparable musical movements from the past with an unwavering devotion to producing pure, unadulterated noise, free from any ideological restraint or traditionally “musical” ideas. As Merzbow explains, “Industrial music used ‘noise’ as a kind of technique. Western Noise is often too conceptual and academic. Japanese Noise relishes the ecstasy of sound itself.”[1]

Click here to view the embedded video.

Masonna

In Merzbow’s early recordings, he sought to create music free of the human body, free of instruments, starting with pre-existing sound on tapes which he would simply distort and edit. Other groups such as Incapacitants showed a similar attitude, insisting that their performances not only were free of any human intention or ideology, but in fact had nothing to do with music (a claim many of their listeners found easy to agree with.) Band slogans such as “I hate art I love noise” (Masonna), “Art is over” (The Gerogerigegege) and “No Meaning, No Message, No Image” (Incapacitants) insisted on these points with a dogmatism bordering on the more ideological Western noise musicians from which they wanted to distinguish themselves. Some of these groups released no studio recordings throughout their whole career, and those that did usually only later. Merzbow describes how he also made a shift from his early tape experimentations to live analogue performances: “My first motivation for creating sound was anti-use of electric equipment- Broken tape recorders, broken guitar, amp etc. I thought I could get a secret voice from equipment itself when I lost control. That sound is unconsciousness, libido of equipment. Then I tried to control them with more powerful process.” [2]

Click here to view the embedded video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

However, beginning in 2000, Merzbow began making all of his music on a computer. Throughout the 80s and 90s, his shows would involve dozens of pieces of equipment, but now include only two laptops and a mixer. Contrasting the automaton creation he championed in the past, he now usually plays prerecorded samples while sitting behind his laptop, the music sometimes even incorporating something that would resemble a traditional beat, which would have been unthinkable for noise music in the past. While some of the more classic Japanoise acts such as Masonna and Hijokaidan still keep up with their wildly violent analogue performances, most of the newer noise artists have switched to totally digital creations often incorporating samples.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Speaking of this kind of production, Merzbow says “nothing is really destroyed or disappears, as recycling is part of production. It’s a natural and necessary part of post-capitalism. There should be no illusion of only production, as was the case with early industrialization. We no longer use a dialectical approach in our disposal/recycling system, only a forward movement to the reproduction of reproduction.” [3] He himself certainly exemplifies this forward movement, having produced well over 300 albums of music despite having released virtually nothing in his first decade as an artist. This new image of noise that Merzbow has helped to create, mechanistically hyper-recycling, has moved the image of the scene away from the violent exhibitionism of the 90s into something arguably completely unique in the music world: the ultimate commodity, the gesture of “music” without the substance, existing in a dimensionless, referentless world of undifferentiated noise consumed indiscriminately by consumers downloading from across the world, rather than by devoted fans in an intimate live setting.

On the subject of the similar death of the analogue in digital photography, Jean Baudrillard writes, “In this digital liberation of the photographic act, in this impersonal process in which the medium itself generates mass-produced images, with no other intercession but the technical, we can see seriality in its consummate form… For this is really the last straw, this aspiration to clear the way, with the digital, for the integral image, free from any real-world constraints. And we would not be forcing the analogy if we extended this same revolution to human beings in general, free now, thanks to this digital intelligence, to operate within an integral individuality, free from all history and subjective constraints… if subjective irony disappears– and it disappears in the play of the digital– then irony becomes objective. Or it becomes silence.” [4] Baudrillard is referencing specifically how the digital manipulation of photography ends the play of absence and presence seen in the image between which an analogue divides reality and illusion. He claims that such a duality is the basis of subjectivity, irony, and reality, and that in our world consciousness has ceased to exist because there is no reality against which to struggle, irony has ceased to exist because there can be no tension between intent and reality. Everything, including machines, are saturated in subjectivity to the point that subjectivity has ceased. These kind of arguments lend themselves well the the act of producing digital noise. Music that is already cut up and devoid of any sensibility of craft or entertainment value, it is a narcissistic reflection of the listener’s experience, found in the impersonal process of the machine. Like pop music, it  offers no catharsis, takes part in no narrative aside from that of the instantly gratifying commodity. No progress, no emotion, no humanity.

“Sometimes, I would like to kill the much too noisy Japanese by my own Noise. The effects of Japanese culture are too much noise everywhere. I want to make silence by my Noise.”

- Merzbow [1]

god of noise

Questions:

Does Japanoise seem to you closer to the academic avant-garde or something like hardcore punk, or somewhere in-between? If you watched some of the above noise performances, how do you think they relate to the tradition of rock n’ roll performance? Destructiveness and excess seem to have always been a part of that tradition, but The Sex Pistols at least played some instruments. Does the subtraction of the pretense of musical creativity herald something new in this respect, or is it just more of the same ineffectual, juvenile rebellion displaced into the culture industry? Or would you in fact place (digital) noise as something more akin to pop music, both caught in machine-like automation?

Do these images fit into the images of Japan we have discussed in the course thus far, whether by similarity or contrast? The website for PSF Records, a label specializing in a lot of Japanese noise, reads “SHATTERING THE MYTH OF JAPANESE CONFORMITY” on its homepage. What do you make of this?

Sources:

1. http://www.esoterra.org/merzbow.htm
2. http://noiseweb.com/merzbow/all.html
3. Liner notes. Rainbow Electronics. CD. Alchemy Records, 1990.
4. Baudrillard, Jean. Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared? Calcutta: Seagull Books, 2007.

Introduction: Attack of the Cake-Demon

At 11:56, on January 20, 2011, the popular Western imageboard 4chan’s (link not safe for work/life/anything) anime and manga board, /a/, was watching live Japanese TV. This was not, in itself, unusual- although not as (in)famous as its sister board /b/, /a/ too boasts a very active community of Internet addicts more than willing to while away a few hours in the middle of the day (or night) with scabrous chatter and streaming video. Nor was their choice of show particularly surprising: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica,, a mahou shoujo (‘magical girl’) program from the reliably competent SHAFT Animation that had been getting muted, but positive, buzz. It was not shaping up to be overly original, of course, but that was beside the point. Madoka was being marketed as a genre piece; therefore, as with many such codified forms, its appeal was one of familiarity: an ‘ordinary’ middle-school girl is offered supernatural powers, accessed through a talismanic gem and associated with a change in costume, that she might fight for her ideals and to protect others.

Up to this point, Madoka was familiar ground for the denizens of /a/, steeped as they were with the tropes of magical-girl anime. It had, by turns, an innocent and idealistic protagonist, a dark and mysterious deuteragonist, a cat-like ‘mascot character’ with an unusual name, (“Kyuubey,”) and the obligatory frame tale of an eternal struggle of good against evil and hope against despair. All recall countless other genre progenitors. And if, perhaps, there was something a tad unsettling about that cat-thing’s expressionless pink eyes as it offered (most insistently) to make a “contract” with the main characters, they set aside those reservations: genre conventions demanded optimism and idealism. It came as a bit of a shock, therefore, when 11:57 rolled around and, right on the heels of a joyous montage sequence celebrating the titular Madoka’s forging a new friendship and resolving to take on Kyuubey’s bargain and use that power to fight the evils of the world, /a/ was treated to the sight of this same friend being beheaded and devoured by what appeared to be a toothier version of the Very Hungry Caterpillar, only made of cake and polka-dots:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Archived threads from that evening show the precise instant that Madoka stopped being received as just another by-the-book genre piece with a somewhat unusual aesthetic and became something else entirely: an Internet phenomenon.

Within hours, 4chan and Reddit were ablaze with posts, and seven episodes later, /r/anime showed literally hundreds of mentions of “Madoka” and related strings. By March, with barely two-thirds of the planned twelve-episodes aired, the little show that beheaded a main character three episodes in had handily beaten the Japanese imageboard 2chan’s lifetime threadcount record, previously held by the perennial nerd favorite Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuutsu.

Common Threads, Common Characters

This popularity did not come out of nowhere. Rather, it reflects a particular mode of media engagement, both in Japan and in the US, defined by the seeking of familiar and desirable character, narrative, and thematic components out of a shared and internally coherent taxonomy of media products. According to the literary theorist Hiroki Azuma, anime programs, their elements, and their derivative products, can be treated not as complete creations in isolation, but rather as entries into a vast “database” of fictional elements. (Azuma, 47-48) Consumption of this database media, therefore, is less an act of ascribing value to a grand political or ideological narrative or to a specific work’s validity than it is a concerted demand for media incorporating appealing elements and combinations of elements. The rise of Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica and anime series like it is therefore predicated on the consumption of simulacra, or, in this case, one simulacrum in particular- a certain juxtaposition of the exaggeratedly twee and the gorily violent: a ‘grotesque cute.’ Without grotesque cuteness, triumphantly ushered in by the climax of its third episode, Madoka would not have been catapulted into the Internet zeitgeist.

In particular, this grotesque cute meme can be seen to be operating with its strongest degree of influence in the creation of characters. This can be accounted for in part by the vast influence that character design choices hold over the popularity and success of anime productions- as Azuma notes, the process of formulating the dramatis personae has become emphasized over narrative creation to the point of becoming the first stage in the media development process. (Azuma, 48) Database consumption is distinguished by its valuation of character creation over narrative structure. For the purpose of seeking out the most important mechanisms, therefore, this discussion will center upon a character-driven syntax of cute, characterized by a certain admixture of adorableness and edginess- the grotesque moé.

Girls, Gore, Gut Impact

Although moé could be translated as ‘cute’ or ‘cuteness,’ to define it so broadly would be an oversimplification. moé is a special breed of cuteness, expressed solely in a certain kind of character. It is not strictly a visually oriented cuteness, although visual elements can contribute to its expression. Nor is it synonymous with other brands of cuteness, such as the syrupy ‘kawaii’; rather, its defining appeal is lodged in vulnerability, and especially in emotional vulnerability. The draw of moé characters is derived from the fan’s gut instinct to desire to shelter and comfort them. (Dela Pena, 9) In a more lighthearted setting, certainly, there can be a great degree of overlap between moé and a conventional conception of cuteness as innocent. Such a moé character might be drawn as a mawkish blob of large eyes and youthful enthusiasms and appear with an attendant selection of other component traits in the broader simulacrum of ‘cute,’ such as shyness or clumsiness. When these traits are used in contribution to an expression of moé they are selected for an association with a schema of innocence or, at least, dependance.

Despite this component of perceived innocence, however, many of the more influential moé archetypes are of the more grotesque persuasion. Of these, the most noteworthy form is a sort of enfant fatale- child-warriors such as the mahou shoujo in Madoka and the pilots in Shin Seiki Evangelion or youthful assassins such as those in Noir, and Gunslinger Girl. Considering at face value the contrast between these characters and the child soldiers of the real world, the the divide between the formalized simulacrum of cuteness and the realism it supplants is stygian. In the logic of moé, however, this cognitive dissonance becomes far less jarring, as these attributes paradoxically enhance their perceived vulnerability. The implication surrounding such characters is that their toughness contains a well of repressed feelings and that, even as they handily defend themselves against myriad deadly foes, they still need a shoulder to cry on. The viewer’s pity, by this schema, draws them to the character as an instrument of catharsis.

The grotesque cute, therefore, can be regarded as a device tailored to tap into a deep vein of moé by raising the emotional stakes for a character. Alternatively, this linkage can be utilized in reverse: traditionally moé character design elements, matched with a gritty setting, as in the case of Madoka or Evangelion, can serve to emphasize the darker aspects of a work by brashly subverting their normally lighthearted associations. In either case, grotesque cuteness represents a hybridization of genres, whereby two opposing sorts of appeal are thrown into relief by their contrasts. Whether cuteness or horror wins out, however, has a dramatic effect on the tone and reception of a work.

Case Study: the Entertainment Value of Grotesque Moé

Carrying the first of these propositions, namely, that ‘edginess’ yields moé, one might expect for there to exist a strong incentive for shows establishing moé characters to go overboard on the violence. It is, therefore, unsurprising, that in some more episodic or fan-service-prone programs, cerebral concerns are casually subsumed in a deluge of raw sentimentality tinged with grindhouse gore. Take, for instance, this excerpt from the aforementioned Suzumiya Haruhi:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Even in the context of the original program, this scene barely tips its hand towards advancing a narrative; rather, Suzumiya Haruhi invokes grotesque cuteness to engage an audience and market a franchise and characters to them. In this case, it is Nagato Yuki (the one with the short, purple hair) being sold, not as a character with individual will, but as an object of moé appeal. To this end a certain, deliberate distance is imposed, both between Nagato and her surroundings and between viewers and the action. Conflict is dissected into an orderly exchange of attacks, counters, and declarations- an extended riff on magical-girl anime that pointedly deflates any sense of desperation or crisis. Where Madoka’s invocation of the cute-grotesque deconstructs mahou shoujo as existentially horrifying, Suzumiya Haruhi instead revels in its ‘debasement,’ twisting a normally innocuous genre into exploitation cinema- a beautiful girl is imperiled by a mad killer but harbors terrible powers of her own(!) The objective is not to create genuine suspense; rather, it is to create a gory and engaging spectacle, populated with archetypal attributes of cuteness and ‘badassery.’ In one respect Nagato is in control of the situation, but, in the final analysis, this agency is a mirage. At the end of the scene normality is restored, wounds heal, and the petty dramas of juvenile sexual politics return to the forefront. The only lasting significance of her battle to the death is a reshuffling of her particular moé elements: she loses the glasses.

The blood and gore, meanwhile, serve to ossify the remainder of her (markedly thin) characterization. There is more than a hint of the previously discussed ‘enfant fatale‘ archetype at play, tied up in a mild implementation of the ‘awkward-cute’ expression of the tsundere archetype: Nagato is unable or embarrassed to admit her devotion to Kyon, (the male protagonist,) but the extremes to which she goes to protect him betray her desire. It’s the old ‘I’m not doing this because I like you or anything’ line, just with the usual blushing replaced with wire-fu and knives. After all, what does the 18-25 demographic adore, save for cute girls and balletic violence?

Case Study: The Perverse Appeal of Ayanami Rei

Popular and influential anime are not, however, limited to the extreme, escapist end of the grotesque-cute continuum that Suzumiya Haruhi inhabits. Hideaki Anno’s 1995-1996 Shin Seiki Evangelion, for instance, can be seen as a direct response to the same sorts of moé excesses that Haruhi deifies. Anno, thoroughly repulsed by the degree of attachment displayed by fans to his previous series, Nadia, and in particular toward its female protagonist, (Lamarre, 179-180) produces in Evangelion the logical extreme of their desire: a hyperreal exaggeration of moé vulnerability and a deconstruction of its inconsistencies and absurdities. The character he creates to fill this role, Ayanami Rei, is a fully realized tragic character in the traditional sense, with backstory, believable motivations, a dynamic, developing persona, and a fatal flaw. Rei’s hamartia is her expression of a host of traditional moé traits: she is socially awkward, single-mindedly devoted to an undeserving man, unselfconsciously lacking a nudity taboo, frequently injured and bandaged, and possessed of mysterious powers. Far from rendering her benignly adorable, in keeping with their normal function, however, these traits force her into a spiral of self-loathing and despair, as she gradually comes to realize that her existence has become entirely delimited by her loyalty to her ‘creator,’ even as he views her as little more than a cloned replacement for his dead wife and an instrument for his political ends. Where a traditional moé character is driven by pathos, with a subtext of eros, Rei represents an agent of thanatos. One scene in particular, from the tail end of Shin Seiki Evangelion, illustrates this rhetorical approach:

Click here to view the embedded video.

A similar basic premise underlies both vignettes: a young woman, fighting with sublime powers against an alien evil, finds her broader political or humanitarian goals entangled with a personal desire (as yet unexpressed and unacknowledged) to protect a chosen man. Where Evangelion diverges is in its treatment of violence and agency. For Nagato Yuki, in the first clip, the combat is clear-cut and gory but emotionally sterile- she maintains a Keaton-esque composure throughout, allowing the viewer to likewise remain at a comfortable remove from the events at hand. At no point does this presentation call into question the propriety of objectifying her self-destructive stoicism as part of a schema of moé. For Ayanami Rei, however, the stakes are wholly different. The violence is, for the most part, bloodless and indistinct, partially obscured under skin-tight latex or wrapped up entirely in internal dialogue. For all that, however the impression given is wholly at odds to the spotless carnage that characterizes Haruhi. By putting self-sacrifice, trauma, and violation back into the picture, director Hideaki Anno openly challenges the protestations of many moé fans that their appreciation is somehow non-sexual or non-objectifying. Rather, he implies, it represents a fetishization of anguish.

Despite his evident best efforts, however, Anno failed to raze the edifice of moé through the character of Ayanami Rei. Instead, in a cruel twist of fate, he gave it one of its most enduring archetypes, perpetuating a blend of traits, originally chosen to unnerve, as an iconic form of grotesque moé. Nagato Yuki’s striking resemblance to Rei, whether a consequence of shared databases or direct reference, is no coincidence. Considering the violent and sexualized contexts in which Anno places Ayanami Rei in Evangelion, however, her insurgent popularity is unsurprising: as much as he tries to make her plight genuinely upsetting, he inadvertently reinforces her moé appeal and her edgy cachet. Grotesque moé, much like a Chinese finger trap, functions as a sort of Catch-22: the more creators like Anno attempt to deconstruct its negative implications, the more victimized and, hence, the more perversely sympathetic, its characters become.

Going Forward

We are presented, therefore, with a variety of uses of the grotesque cute motif: in Madoka chiefly as a tone-setter, in Haruhi as a moé-enhancer, and in Evangelion as a tool for social criticism. Underlying these implementations, in turn, is an external motive; namely, attracting and maintaining fans. As the tremendous success of each of these shows would attest, the cute-grotesque serves well in this regard. Consequently, its recycling and perpetuation as a component of Hiroki Azuma’s anime toolbox is to be expected- whether as exploitation cinema or critical exegesis, grotesque cuteness is here to stay.

For Discussion:

1. Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica is being produced primarily for Japanese consumption- indeed, it is presently available only through saved recordings of the original broadcasts and no indication has been given as to when, if ever, it will be licensed in the US. From this, and its phenomenal popularity on 2chan, we know that it appeals to a Japanese audience. Is this appeal, however, the same appeal that draws a Western fan to watch it? To what extent is American demand for grotesque cuteness couched in a perceived difference in social norms, whereby Japan becomes a land reduced to seppuku and seifuku, as it were; from whose media images of violence and cuteness are selectively appropriated by the West as exotic and appealing?

    

2. Madoka Magica, Evangelion, and Suzumiya Haruhi all present different takes on the presentation and import of the grotesque-moé motif, ranging from social critique to escapist titillation. Do these differing rhetorical purposes justify each iteration of the meme as an original proposition, or does the use of a shared motif preclude individual creativity?

    

3. What other uses of the ‘grotesque cute’ motif do you identify in recent anime? What rhetorical or narrative purposes do they serve?

Non-web References

Azuma, Hiroki. “Database Animals.” In Otaku: Japan’s Database Animals, 25-67. University of Minnesota Press, 2009.

To see this ‘database’ in action, visit TVTropes, since 2004 a den of anime fanboys and disaffected LCST majors who spend an inordinate amount of time unpicking the particularities and commonalities of all manner of fiction.

Dela Pena, Joseph L. “Otaku: Images and Identity in Flux.” The College Undergraduate Research Journal of the University of Pennsylvania (2006).

Lamarre, Thomas. The Anime Machine: A Media Theory of Animation. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2009

TV Shows

(In order of use)

Shinbo, Akiyuki. “I’m Not Afraid of Anything Anymore.” Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica. MBS, January 21, 2011.

Ishihara, Tatsuya. “Suzumiya Haruhi no Yūutsu IV.” PAL. Suzumiya Haruhi no Yūutsu. Tokyo MX, June 4, 2006.

Anno, Hideaki. “Rei III (Tears).” PAL. Shin Seiki Evangelion. TV Tokyo, March 6, 1996.

Ninja =/= Samurai

Kanji, the logographic form of Japanese writing, was borrowed from China in somewhere between the 2^nd century BCE and the 4^th century CE, from the Han and Sui dynasties. Along with hiragana and katakana, it forms the basis of Japanese script. It also forms the basis of one of the most amusing pastimes for the student of Japanese or Chinese, namely, reading the often incorrectly written tattoos of passers-by. (Disclaimer: While many or most of the pictures in this post are of incorrect/unintended characters, I do not deny that many people in the America and elsewhere outside Japan use kanji correctly. These are simply much funnier.) Kanji are all over the place in America, on signs, clothing, and perhaps most intriguingly, on our bodies.

Translation: Listing price within lower winter adult thousand yen village tall inner line New Year’s greeting

Kanji Tattoos

The popularity of tattoos as a means for personal expression has been on the rise in America over the past few decades. In fact, it is estimated that a third of Americans between the ages of 23 and 30 have at least one tattoo. A large number of these tattoos are of Japanese and Chinese characters, 漢字 (kanji or hanzi, respectively); the “cool” factor of these characters definitely derives from their impression of Japanese-ness

The injection of permanent ink under one’s skin is a significant act; it creates an intentional sign that can be read semiologically. Under such a definition, signs contain both the signifier (the actual image) and the signified (the idea inherent in the sign). In terms of a tattoo as a sign, the signifier is the actual ink under the skin, and there are a number of different things signified, from the image formed by the ink to the origin story of the tattoo or its possible textual meaning. However, the fact that the tattoo is a Japanese character will always be one of the things signified to a non-Japanese viewer. In the case of a kanji tattoo, the textual meaning is obscured to most people as well, requiring translation. Translation, in the words of Daphne Lei, thus forms a required “double reading;” that is, when we see a character, we must both figure out how the word sounds in the language and what it translates to in our native language.  To further quote Lei:

“However, between the initial aesthetic response and the final understanding of the meaning, there is a long process of guessing/questioning, translating/interpreting (or mistranslation/misinterpretation), and narrating/reasoning—all these steps constitute the ‘tattoo discourse.’”

The first part of the “tattoo discourse,” and one very closely related to the concept of ‘cool kanji’ is the initial aesthetic response. To us viewers from the West, kanji are immediately seized upon as foreign; English, along with most all other European languages, uses an alphabet-based orthography, whereas kanji are logographic. A logographic system uses symbols to represent words, whereas an alphabetic system uses its symbols to represent sounds; thus it is relatively simpler to figure out the pronunciation of a word in an alphabetic system, and relatively easier to guess at the meaning of a character in a logographic one. A logography like kanji lends itself very well to use in tattoo, as it makes the middle steps in the discourse more navigable. Calligraphy has been elevated to an art form in Japan and China; kanji are aesthetically pleasing to both those within the culture and those outside of it. Ignoring the cultural and linguistic context of your tattoo, however, may be fraught with peril:

The purchaser wanted the character ‘beauty,’ 美. This character means ‘disaster’. The irony is cruel sometimes.

The draw of kanji

Kanji have their own unique draw for many; aside from the aesthetic appeal, kanji offer one of the strongest direct links to an as yet undefined Japanese-ness. Characters are in no way mukokuseki, although there may be confusion among non-experts as to where exactly the characters come from- after all, Chinese hanzi, Japanese kanji, and Korean hanja all stem from classical Chinese characters. Regardless, the very appearance of these characters has become linked in general western conception to the exotic by reverberations, still felt today, of movements such as Japonism and the dreaded Orientalism. For many, this exoticism is the draw of kanji: a system of meaning quite unlike that used in English, endowed with great aesthetic qualities, and presumably emblematic of the culture they represent.

Neither of these characters remotely pertains to sushi, music, or Buddha.

Discussion Questions:

1. Would you consider getting a tattoo of kanji characters? Do you know someone who has?
2. Indelibly placing on your own body words of a language you do not speak- where does this fall on issues of representation? Are the characters subsumed by the intention of the person tattooed, or if the tattooed person does not have a grasp of the language’s intricacies, do the characters wield a power of their own?
3. Where/do you see kanji in your everyday life? Does kanji carry a component of native Japanese-ness, or merely otherness to a relatively uninformed audience?

For further reading/amusement:

http://hanzismatter.blogspot.com/

http://www.cracked.com/article_18821_5-examples-americans-thinking-foreign-people-are-magic.html (Number two, especially)

Sources:

Lei, Daphne P. “The Blood-Stained Text in Translation: Tattooing, Bodily Writing,and Performance of Chinese Virtue.” Anthropological Quarterly, 81,1: 99-127.

“Logogram.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Web. 06 Apr. 2011. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logogram>.

Schildkrout, Enid. “Inscribing the Body.” Annual Review of Anthropology, 33: 319-344. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/25064856>.

Japan’s mythological creatures are a source of rich inspiration for the many anime artists who produce the pop culture which has exploded in popularity in the United States in the past two decades. The mystical creatures of this culture’s bestiary are a unique aspect of its gross national cool which differentiate it from the pop culture exports of other countries. These otherworldly creatures, which are so foreign to the Western imagination, contribute to the popularity of Japanese cultural products in the United States because of their novelty value.

Many Japanese anime series have become significantly popular in the United States in the past two decades. Some notable examples are Death Note, Pokémon and Digimon, and InuYasha among others. The canon of Miyazaki films itself is an excellent example of the popularity of Japanese animation, with the Oscar win of Spirited Away and the distribution of Miyazaki films in the United States by entertainment giant Disney. Many of these TV and movie series have fantasy creatures which draw heavily from Japanese mythology. They are not only cultural, but also based on the religious background of Japan.

Animators include these magical creatures not because they want to appeal to foreign audiences, but because including mythology in pop culture is simply common in Japan. The mythology is ingrained in the Japanese psyche and thus makes an obvious source of ideas for artists. Americans’ voracious appetite for Japanese cultural products, including anime, is a side effect of this. The ideas behind the myths, as well as the religious aspect of the kami, present totally different plots and concepts to Americans.

The Pokémon Espeon, based on the bakeneko.

There are numerous examples of Japanese monsters appearing in anime series. Several Pokémon and Digimon are based on monsters from the Japanese bestiary. The bakeneko, a spirit feline with a forked tail, makes several appearances in the forms of the Pokémon Espeon and the Digimon Persiamon and Gatomon X. The kamaitachi, a weasel with scythe-like claws, is also seen in the Pokémon Sneasel and the Digimon Kyukimon. These are only a few examples.

The kitsune, or spirit fox, makes a surprising number of appearances in several popular animé series. Interestingly, the kitsune has strong ties to the rice god, Inari, so these examples show religious influences in pop culture. Naturally, there are several Pokémon (Vulpix and Ninetales and Digimon (Renamon) based on this creature. Because of the more powerful nature of the kitsune and its ability to transform into a human, it is also seen in Naruto. The main character has a kitsune inside him, which grants him supernatural powers useful in his goal of becoming a master ninja. A fox demon is also a minor character in the series Inu Yasha.

The shinigami, or death god, has also become familiar to American viewers, primarily through the television series Death Note, which was part of Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim. The main character is constantly followed by the shinigami whose notebook he found. In the series Bleach, the main character actually becomes a “soul reaper,” which is essentially a shinigami.

Ryuk, the shinigami from Death Note.

Miyazaki’s movies by themselves have myriad examples of Japanese magical creatures. The film Princess Mononoke has demons which are the gods of the animals they represent, giant wolves, and guardian forest spirits. The wolves especially are significant because of their relation to the historical background of Princess Mononoke: the Ainu people, who are featured prominently, believed they were descended from a goddess and a wolf. [1] Princess Mononoke herself and her wolves are reminiscent of these entities.

Spirited Away introduced American viewers to the Japanese concept of spirits. Objects such as rivers and even radishes are show to have spirits; one of the main characters is the spirit of the Kohaku River, who saves Chihiro’s life and befriends her at the bathhouse. The belief that all natural objects have spirits is shared by Native Americans, so the concept may not have been totally new to some viewers. However, the Japanese spirits take on physical forms that an American viewer would not be able to conceive. Among the more bizarre forms seen in the parade of spirits is a yellow blob with colorful markings and a red hat. The total unfamiliarity of this imagination makes Japanese creatures more interesting to Americans.

Spirited Away was critically acclaimed in the United States, and earned an Academy Award not for Best Foreign Film, but for Best Animated Feature, showing that it could hold its own in the American market. Many Americans were already familiar with Studio Ghibli’s work due to My Neighbor Totoro, but this propelled the studio to even greater heights, and the subsequent release of Ponyo was widely anticipated, netting $3.5 million dollars on opening weekend. [2]

Click here to view the embedded video.

The Japanese interpretation of elements from other cultures also provides a different perspective. Some anime series incorporate the mythological creatures of other countries, most notably China. The popular manga/anime Fruits Basket is completely based on the Chinese Zodiac. Part of the strife in the plot comes from the legend of the cat being left out of the zodiac; indeed, the character representing the cat often feels like a loner.

Click here to view the embedded video.

However, examples of Japan’s use of mythical creatures from other cultures are overall difficult to find and is not as prominent. Well-known creatures, such as dragons, phoenixes, and unicorns, have their own equivalents in Japanese mythology which are often used instead of the Western versions.

The unique mythology of Japan makes it more appealing to Western viewers because of its unfamiliarity. Mythology is often based on the imagination: every creature can be interpreted in myriad ways simply because there’s no defined way for it to appear. This room for interpretation allows mythical creatures to be easily inserted in many different anime and manga series, both popular and obscure. American viewers may not necessarily be aware of the rich stories and folk tales behind these creatures, but the novelty and different imagination appeal to them.

The unusual nature of Japanese mythological creatures is part of Japan’s overall gross national cool. The pure novelty value of their cultural products already fascinates American viewers, and their mythical creatures are just another aspect of that novelty. This has allowed several anime series to truly flourish and even become part of American popular culture.

Discussion Questions:

1. Do you agree that Japan’s mythical creatures helps its popularity in the United States?

2. Do other cultures feature their mythology as prominently in their cultural products?

3. Why are mythical creatures/monsters featured so prominently in Japanese cultural products, if at all?

Sources:

[1] Walker, Brett L. The Lost Wolves of Japan. Seattle: University of Washington, 2005. Print. [Google Books link]

[2] “Spirited Away (2001) – Box Office / Business.” The Internet Movie Database (IMDb). Web. 11 Apr. 2011. <http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0245429/business>.

Related Links:

(1) Japanese mythology in popular culture  (Wikipedia): comprehensive listing of potential matches between anime/manga characters and Japanese myths

(2) Discover How Japanese Characters Inspire Anime Characters at Epcot: “Spirited Beasts,” an exhibit at Disney World, explores the same ideas as my paper.

(3) Encyclopedia Mythica: Japanese Mythology: comprehensive listing of Japanese mythological figures/creatures

The Japanese video game industry is one of the largest and most innovative in the world. They are lauded for their creativity and longevity, as well as their broad cultural appeal. However, what many consumers don’t realize is that behind the graphics and fantastical plotlines often lies a broader significance. Many of the most popular franchises in Japanese video gaming are heavily based on mythology, both Eastern and Western alike. While it is often not apparent to many players, especially younger gamers or those who are not familiar with the mythological canon, these details give the gameplay and coinciding plots more depth, and can be seen as a reflection on the creators’ view of culture.

Capcom’s 2006 release Okami is perhaps the most overt use of mythology in a Japanese video game. Much like the title suggests, the game makes direct reference to indigenous Shinto canon seen in classical works such as the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki, which detail the divine origins of Japan. The main character is a white wolf by the name of Amaterasu, who is seen as an anthropomorphic form of the sun goddess of the same name. While the game diverts from the canon of the Kojiki, the most important figures and details remain, for example, the slaying of the serpent Yamata no Orochi by the sea god Susanoo, brother of Amaterasu. Simply known as “Orochi” in the game, this creature serves as a primary antagonist. Before the events of the game take place, Orochi drove out the divine characters from the Celestial Plain, who used the Ark of Yamato to escape the destruction of their world. This alludes to the creation of the islands of Japan from the divine realm, whose new inhabitants were known as the Yamato people. Another major reference to mythology lies in the legend of Nagi, short for Izanagi. Nagi is depicted as a legendary warrior and ancestor of the character Susanoo who freed Nippon from the terror of Orochi a century before the events of Okami. Reference is also made to his true love Nami, likely a parallel to Izanami, who in tandem with Izanagi was thought to have created Japan, its inhabitants, and other deities. Amongst these deities (more often known as kami) are Amaterasu and Susanoo. Capcom’s reimagining of the Japanese mythological tradition does not serve as a religious fable of any kind, but rather a classic battle of good and evil. By styling the game as inherently Japanese and rooted within the nation’s rich cultural traditions. Players from other nations might be less inclined to recognize the many references, however, and many reviews indicate its popularity is solely based on the quality of gameplay and unique graphic stylization.

Bahamut, Lord of the Sky

Final Fantasy is oneof Japan’s most popular and successful video game franchises. Its 13 installments and variety of spinoffs are seen as the premier form of turn-based role playing game (RPG), as well as a pioneer of graphics and depth of story. The 1997 installment Final Fantasy VII (FFVII) is one of the best-selling games of all time, and to this day is considered a form of “required gaming” for the Japanese RPG enthusiast and gamer in general. However, what makes FFVII truly interesting is its use of mythological reference as well as an original mythology invented by the creators to flesh out an expansive universe. While the mythology within the game is more a source of inspiration than plot tool, the use of it is not insignificant. Examples of this are seen most clearly in the various god-like creatures the player can summon to assist them in battle, known simply as “summons”.  The summon Shiva weilds the power of ice, and takes inspiration from the Hindu deity of the same name, although the former is always depicted as female, and the latter male. In addition, the summons Ifrit and Bahamut are based on creatures in Arabian mythology, noted for their strength and supernatural power. What is lacking in FFVII, however, is any real direct reference to classical Japanese mythology.

The closest example would be the main antagonist Sephiroth, who weilds an extra-long katana known as the Masamune. The weapon’s name is a reference to the swordsmith of Japanese legend by the same name. Much like Masamune was thought to be the greatest executor of his craft, Sephiroth is thought to be the ultimate soldier. However, this is where the Eastern inspiration in the game seems to end. Sephiroth takes his name from one of the ten attributes that the Judeo-Christian God manifests through, and his moniker “the One-Winged Angel” gives off a decidedly Western vibe. In a sense Sephiroth can be seen as a “hybrid” character – he displays elements of both Japanese and Western mythological origin, and is all the more powerful for it.

Chaotic Evil vs. The Hero

Other elements of a Western mythological canon include idea of a hero on a journey, namely, the physical and emotional journey the protagonist Cloud undergoes throughout the game. Cloud is something of a tragic figure. Although handsome and well-liked, he spends most of the game running from his violent past and the immense guilt he faces. In a sense his experiences parallel those of Hercules, a brave and exceptional warrior who committed horrific crimes, but eventually found redemption through his heroic deeds.

Click here to view the embedded video.

In addition to the various allusions to known mythology, FFVII has a mythological canon of its own. The story takes place on a planet known as Gaia (an allusion to the Mother Earth-like figure from Greek lore) or simply just “the Planet.” At its core is a mysterious ocean of energy known as the Lifestream. Its nature is cyclical; the Lifestream gives living things life, and at death their souls return to it, allowing for the planet to retain energy. In a sense the Lifestream is similar to the River Styx, which according to Greek myth houses the souls of the dead, and is a mode of transit into the afterlife. The Planet was once inhabited by a race known as “Ancients”, who were wiped out when a mysterious alien known as Jenova crashed on Gaia and infected the population. The events of the game are set in motion by the harvesting of Lifestream energy, known as Mako (魔晄 “magic light”), began taking a toll on the Planet. In addition, Mako was used in conjunction with leftover DNA material from Jenova to create super-soldiers, namely Cloud and Sephiroth. The result is a cautionary environmental tale in conjunction with a battle of the hero (Cloud and his allies) against the forces of evil (Sephiroth, Jenova, Shinra Company). In theory, the only thing that differentiates it from traditional mythology is its futuristic nature.

The "Sending"

And finally, another prime example of the mythology of video games can be found once again within the Final Fantasy franchise. Final Fantasy X (FFX), released in 2001, borrows heavily from both Eastern and Western traditions, and contains its own canon as well. FFX is set in a world called Spira, where magic, religion, and technology are in a constant struggle for balance of power. Several characters are personifications of traditional mythological figures, most notably the hero Tidus. Tidus, unlike the brooding Cloud, is upbeat and full of bravado, which both helps and hurts him. He is countered by the female protagonist Yuna, whose occupation as a Summoner combines the practices of a magician and a priestess. It is often thought that these two characters embody the notion of Yin and Yang, opposites who fit each other perfectly due to their differences. The two are also seen as Christ-like figures, as they both are willing to sacrifice themselves for duty and their personal beliefs.

Click here to view the embedded video.

An overarching theme within the game is that of a religious fable, as well. Tidus arrives in Spira due to an attack by a massive monster known only as Sin, who manifested as a consequence of human wrongdoing, namely the overuse of technology. This is a common motif in many myths, whose etiological nature seeks to provide humans with an explanation for the way things are. Many of the themes within this game and others are universal, which is quite possibly a reason for their success and cross-cultural appeal.

Although the topics and allusions within Japanese video games may not be apparent to all players, their presence signifies a deeper meaning than most take this media for, and could possibly be the creators’ push for more cultural legitimacy.

Discussion Questions:

1. Why do you think video game creators choose to base their work on mythology?

2. When it comes to Japanese myth, are video games a good representation of the culture? Or are they Mukokuseki?

3. Does a “deeper meaning” in video games provide more appeal to players?

Sources:

“Symbolism, Mythology, Culture, & Religion in ‘Final Fantasy X’” http://browardvirtualschool.net/hollyguerrio/proj2/index.htm

“Okami and Japanese Mythology” http://outsiderjapan.pbworks.com/w/page/9758472/Okami-and-Japanese-Mythology

“Creative Uncut – Video Game Art Galleries” http://www.creativeuncut.com/game-art-galleries.html

Kieran G. Blasingim. “HERO MYTHS IN JAPANESE ROLE-PLAYING GAMES.” Thesis. Bowling Green Sate University, 2006. Print.

Japan has the second largest music market in the world behind the United States, and 75% of the music consumed in Japan is made by Japanese artists[1].  Much of this music is J-pop.  The term J-pop was coined in the early 1990s and it now refers to most popular Japanese music, from rock acts like L’arc-en-ciel to R&B and pop acts like Namie Amuro and Perfume.  With this huge variety of groups in the second biggest music market in the world, how can I say that J-pop is not about the music?  Of course it’s about the music in many cases, but there are other factors that play a larger role in popularizing certain songs or groups.  These factors include a song’s tie-in to a popular drama, anime, or video game, and the appeal of the group members themselves, either for the cuteness, sexiness, or both.  I would argue that it is these other factors that are the reason for J-pop’s place as a part of Japan’s Gross National Cool.

A unique characteristic of J-pop is “cutesy” music.  This music could be said to be approximately a mixture of “bubblegum” pop and children’s popular music.  Japanese “cutesy” artists are always female and they often fuse sexuality and child-likeness together in a subtle manner.  They often wear child-like clothing and feign facial expressions of surprise, happiness, sadness, or anger in a child-like way[3].  A good example of this style of music is the group Morning Musume, seen below.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The sexier side of cutesy music can be seen in AKB48.  This pop group is made up of 48 young women, and so holds the Guinness World Record for being the “Pop group with the greatest number of members.”  The group originated as a theater group in Akihabara, the electronics district and otaku haven in Tokyo.  At first glance they seem to be just a cute girl group, but the video below will change your mind.

Click here to view the embedded video.

However, the objectification of J-pop artists is not limited to the female.  One of the most popular boy bands in Japan is SMAP, which stands for Sports Music Assemble People.  The group debuted in the early 1990s and they remain popular today.  This popularity is despite the fact that the majority of the members cannot hold a tune, as can be heard in the video below.  Their popularity therefore hinges on something besides music ability.  An important factor  is the group’s appearance in many different types of media.  In the mid-90s members appeared on ten regularly scheduled music and variety shows.  Today the group has its own weekly comedy and variety program called SMAPxSMAP in which the five members have cooking contests, perform comedy skits, and sing their latest songs.  Individual members also appear in many commercials and television dramas.  This omnipresence creates a perceived intimacy with the group’s fans.  The group’s good looks are certainly also a factor.  The members are often portrayed androgynously, and their costumes in concert often cross gender boundaries.  Along with this feminized masculinity, the members are also portrayed as emotionally sensitive and caring.  They are often shown cooking and taking care of children, and members of the band also take part in “crying contests” in which they compete to see who can make himself cry the fastest.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Many J-pop songs become popular, both within and without Japan, because they are tied into other popular media.  About 80% of the top-selling 20 singles in Japan from 2000 to 2004 were songs tied into other media [3].  These tie-ins can be to commercials or to television dramas.  Television drama theme songs are especially important for J-pop’s popularity throughout the rest of Asia.  For example, in the early 2000s in Singapore soundtracks to Japanese dramas and collections of theme songs of Japanese dramas topped the music charts.  Singaporean J-pop fans would listen to older Japanese pop songs because the Japanese dramas broadcast on Singapore television were made several years ago [4].

Outside of Asia, the most well-known J-pop artists are those whose songs have been used in video games and anime.  For example, singer Utada Hikaru’s song “Simple and Clean” was used as the theme song in both the Japanese and American versions of the popular video game Kingdom Hearts.  One J-pop artist has even become its own anime of a sort.  The Cartoon Network show Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi was created by an American fan of the J-pop band Puffy.  The show ran from 2004-2006 and the band has since released a show tie-in album and several of its previous albums in the United States.

Certainly, the music has something to do with J-pop’s popularity, but the factors discussed above are what make J-pop a part of the Japanese cultural phenomenon.  Because of the language barrier of Japanese pop music, other attractive aspects are necessary to make J-pop desirable to a non-Japanese audience.  These aspects are tied into other Gross National Cool cultural commodities, such as video games, anime, drama, and the idea of cuteness.

Discussion Questions:

1.  Is cuteness really a distinctly Japanese music phenomenon?  What do you think makes it popular outside of Japan?

2.  Do you think that J-pop can survive on its musical merits alone?

Related Links

http://www.japaneselifestyle.com.au/culture/j-pop_history.html

http://www.akb48.co.jp/english/index.html

http://www.japan-zone.com/modern/smap.shtml

Sources

1.  Asai, Sumiko.  ”Factors Affecting Hits in Japanese Popular Music.” Journal of Media Economics 21 (2008).  http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=ufh&AN=34478224&site=ehost-live

2.  Darling-Wolf, Fabienne.  ”SMAP, Sex, and Masculinity: Constructing the Perfect Female Fantasy in Japanese Popular Music.” Popular Music and Society 27, no. 3 (2004). http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=hlh&AN=14353063&site=ehost-live

3.  Mattar, Yasser.  “Miso Soup for the Ears: Contemporary Japanese Popular Music and its Relation to the Genres Familiar to the Anglophone Audience.” Popular Music 31, no. 1 (2008). http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=hlh&AN=28552268&site=ehost-live

4.  Ng, Benjamin Wai-ming.  ”Japanese Popular Music in Singapore and the Hybridization of Asian Music.” Asian Music 34, no. 1 (2002).  http://www.jstor.org/stable/834419

Simpler times.

by Keenan Thompson

History

The shojo genre was originally aimed at young, Japanese girls. Shojo kai was the first of a series of girls’ magazine’s begun in the early Meiji era as an attempt to increase the literacy rate. Soon after these magazines’ birth, short, comic manga strips surfaced. Usually the story followed the lines of some inept female heroine being rescued by a handsome man, but for a long time, shojo romance was taboo. Eventually the taboo of shojo romance was overcome and the genre became redefined by it. The stories, however, keep the same form of a girl waiting to be saved.

Present

The genre has since evolved far past its original demographic. This is a unique phenomenon. American culture is largely segmented. Older boys do not listen to Hannah Montana or the Jonas Brothers. Manga and anime cross these barriers smoothly. While shojo was aimed at young girls and included them as protagonists, it included a character for everyone. The female attraction is obvious, they are the stories’ leads. For boys, shojo manga and anime are pleasant middle-grounds for exploration of the mysterious feminine that is somewhere between playing with dolls and actually watching live women.

Party in the U.S.A.

The characters in shojo fiction exist in extremes. In some way they are vastly separated from the rest of world. The boys are either delinquents, troubled geniuses, nice guys, rich playboys, or, in rare cases, absolutely perfect. The girls are consumed by emotion in an excessive, almost inhuman way. While from common Western viewpoint shojo may be seen as degrading women, only giving them value by means of the affection of a male character, shojo is empowering to all in a way. Boys see themselves as hero characters who trump the greatest odds (usually some inner deficiency) to win the girl. Girls see the ability to connect to someone difficult to connect to. Shojo literature is about youth overcoming their mutual interpersonal (especially romantic) ineptitude to achieve the salvation of a perfect relationship.

It is likely the mediums of manga and anime that make shojo accessible. Shojo manga is the emotional pornography we all need at some point. It is a collage of archetypes presented to us in bright colored simplicity (or, to ease us in, sometimes it is  coated with faux complexity). Shojo manga are most comparable to children’s television. The children are not watching the programs for a deep intellectual end (mostly because they can’t), so children’s programming is not designed in this light. It is designed to stimulate them, and with bright colors and loud, funny voices, it does. Shojo is the same way. With bright colors and ridiculous characters, it stimulates us emotionally. It is funny that sometimes emotions have to be made into cartoons to feel real again.

The strength of shojo is in its repetitiveness, in its constant use of simple and overdone archetypes. People can easily place themselves into these templates. Shojo seems to be about finding significance in a system of restraints. Real life shojo were largely confined to their school uniforms, but they became creative with their socks. In the same fashion, girls in shojo manga and anime are hard cast into roles of seeming worthlessness, but this is adapted to some virtue of patience, waiting for that deeply conflicted boy to say what needs to be said.

Those are some fly socks.

Judging from his hair, he is a cactus.

Future

Shojo media has a stake in the American market that does not appear to be waning. The market and interest is still fairly niche, but it is no passing fad. Shojo has gone a long time without any significant change to its format. There are of course a few exceptions, but largely the genre is stale, regardless if the next love interest is a vampire or a mermaid. Shojo will probably always persist in the same form. Some may call its methods cheap (much like the juvenile, shock humor of the “Scary Movie” series), but in the end, a stimulus is a stimulus. Tears are tears no matter if they are brought on by the greatest literature or the melodramatic, romantic issues of teenage cartoon characters.

Fruits Basket Opening

Kawaii ne?

Discussion Questions:

1. Is Shojo fiction a childish escape or has the genre grown to fit its audience? Should shojo shift to fit this audience?

2. Does Shojo literature marginalize the worth of its female protagonists as single entities (absent of a male love interest)?

Sources:

“Shōjo Manga.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Web. 04 Apr. 2011. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shōjo_manga>.

Garrity, Shaenon K. “The Boys of Shojo Manga – ComiXology.” ComiXology – Pull, Rate, Preview, Discuss. Web. 04 Apr. 2011. <http://www.comixology.com/articles/52/The-Boys-of-Shojo-Manga>.

Ogi, F. (2003), Female Subjectivity and Shoujo (Girls) Manga (Japanese Comics): Shoujo in Ladies’ Comics and Young Ladies’ Comics. The Journal of Popular Culture, 36: 780–803. doi: 10.1111/1540-5931.00045

Hatsune Miku Live @ Zepp Tokyo:

Click here to view the embedded video.

“We could begin with a music called enka,” he said, “although I doubt you’d like it.” Software agents did that, learned what you liked. “The roots of contemporary Japanese pop came later, with the wholesale creation of something called ‘group sounds.’ That was a copy-cat phenomenon, flagrantly commercial. Extremely watered-down Western pop influences. Very bland and monotonous.”

“But do they really have singers who don’t exist?”

“The idol-singers,” he said, starting up the hump-backed incline of the bridge. “The idoru. Some of them are enormously popular.”

- Idoru, by William Gibson.

History:

Vocaloids are computer programs that allow user’s to create vocal parts by simply entering in lyrics and a melody line. The software calls upon a voice bank that has sampled sounds from an actual person. The collaboration of the voice bank and MIDI technology creates a vocal part that resembles a heavily Auto-Tuned voice. The Vocaloid unlocked the potential of many song writers and hobbyists, giving a voice to those who had none.

Yamaha Corporation announced news about the release of the Vocaloids and its technology at the German fair, Musikmesse in 2003. While many of us believe that Hatsune Miku was probably the first Vocaloid to surface, Zero-G’s collaboration with Yamaha gave birth to Leon and Lola, an English Vocaloid, in the year of 2004. Miriam followed quickly after, with Japanese Vocaloids Meiko and Kaito following last as the first generation Vocaloids (developed by Crypton Future Media). While the Vocaloids have been on the market for quite a long time now, the virtual idols didn’t garner the popularity they have today until the release of Hatsune Miku in 2007. These Virtual idols have been restricted to the internet until recently in 2009, when Hatsune Miku performed her first ever “live” concert at Animelo Summer Live at Saitama Super Arena. Following in March of 2010, Zepp Tokyo held the first full blown Vocaloid live with appearances from Megurine Luka and the Kagamine twins. This was an opportunity for more Vocaloids to debut on the live stage and a chance to debut a new holographic technology. Zepp Tokyo can house about 3000 people, and the 3000 fans that attended were almost rabid.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Impact on the World:

Just by following the Vocaloid scene on YouTube, it is easy to see that Vocaloids are very popular outside of Japan. On Megurine Luka’s video of Just be Friends (with English Subs), you can view the statistics of where viewers are viewing from, and gives a general idea of where the 1,922,734 views have come from. I’ve personally collaborated with musicians in Canada, Chile, France, and the Netherlands.

Yuyoyuppe’s Palette feat. Megurine Luka

Click here to view the embedded video.

Today, the Vocaloids are dominating the music scene on YouTube and NicoNicoDouga. As of now, the number of virtual idols is ever increasing and is almost overwhelming. While most Vocaloids are official products of companies, many programmers have collaborated to create shareware versions of Vocaloids using voice banks donated to them. The current list of official Vocaloids that are available are as follows: Leon, Lola, Miriam, Meiko, Kaito, Sweet Ann, Hatsune Miku, Kagamine Rin, Kagamine Len, Prima, Kagamine Rin and Len Act 2, Gakpoid: Makui Gakupo, Megurine Luka, Megpoid: Gumi, Sonika, SF-A2 Miki, Kaai Yuki, Hiyama Kiyoteru, Big Al, Hatsune Miku Append, Tonio, Lily, VY1, Gachapoid, Nekomura Iroha, Itatane Piko, and Kagamine Rin / Len Append. Because of this program, many hobbyists have arisen as top notch song composers on the internet. Composers like Yuyoyuppe and Dixie Flatline have risen out of nowhere garnering a huge fanbase all over the world. Vocaloid composers now have CD’s in music shops and online stores like Amazon and iTunes.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Many will argue that software like this will destroy the opportunity to network with other musicians nearby. The argument can go both ways; it can isolate musicians but it can also bring musicians together. Because of the Vocaloids, online collaborations have led to the creation of successful bands in the mainstream market such as Lunetia. Every member of the band has gathered a following online covering songs from various animes and Vocaloid music. Luschka, Yuyyoyuppe, Nike, and Neko have all become incredibly popular because of their involvement in the Vocaloid Community. The Vocaloids have also brought together another online power group, the Ouzoku Band. Composed of the infamous Tissue-Hime, Kaizokuuou, and Ouji (left the band), they have played live shows and continue to collaborate online.

Online Collaboration:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Studio Work:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Interesting enough, many fans don’t understand that the Vocaloids are not unique to Japan. On a YouTube video, the number 1 voted comment reads, ” I swear, if Vocaloids come to America, I’d explode xD BRING THEM TO AMERICA!!!!!!!” This fan, along with 874 other people, believe that the Vocaloids have not come to America yet. Even though  the first Vocaloids are English speaking programs, the Vocaloid fanbase do not view them as virtual idols. Why? Because they don’t sport a cute and sexy anime avatar.  To fans all around the world, the Vocaloids are the anti-thesis of Mukokuseki; the use of anime characters give fans a sense that the Vocaloids are distinctively Japanese.

Wintermute’s Orchid Parade feat. Hatsune Miku Append:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Questions:

Would Vocaloids be as popular if they did not sport cover girls / guys that were modeled after real people?

With the heavy use of Auto-Tune these days, is there really any need for real “singers” anymore? Comparing groups like Perfume to  Vocaloids, the line is beginning to blur.

Sources:

http://www.allbusiness.com/manufacturing/miscellaneous-mfg-musical-instrument/5721117-1.html

http://www.zero-g.co.uk/

http://www.animenewsnetwork.com/news/2009-08-23/hatsune-miku-virtual-idol-performs-live-before-25000

by Mary Grob

Film critics and fans alike agree that the American horror genre entered into a slump during the 1990’s that it has yet to recover from. Gone are the days of psychological thrillers like Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho, and even the slasher film, an American horror stable since the 1970’s, has lost its appeal. Horror fans have been left wanting something new to chill their blood [1]. In the late 1990’s, a new wave of films known as J-Horror began to develop a cult following in the US. Soon after, Hollywood began to take notice of these foreign films, and the answer to America’s horror slump appeared to have been found within Japan.

History of Horror in Japan

The horror genre has a long history within Japanese culture. Since before the advent of cinema, Japan’s art used zankoku no bi or an ‘aesthetic of cruelty‘ which is dominated by “a highly aestheticized, even fantastical world where the inherent sadism is muted by artistic technique [3].” Both the Noe and Kabuki Theatre drew on this “aesthetic of cruelty” during its plays, mixing the supernatural with the natural world of violence; however, the horror genre was not limited to the stage. Mizoguchi Kenji’s horror film Ugetsu (1953) was based off a collection of short stories called Ugetsu Monogatan, first published in Japan in 1776 [4].

The horror genre made a smooth transition in Japan from stage to screen. The first horror films ever made in Japan were interpretation of Kabuki plays. As film developed as a medium, the Japanese horror genre expanded. From kaidan (avenging spirit films) to daikaiju eiga (giant monster films), filmmakers used horror as a medium to explore societal angst and fears.

The Beginning of J-Horror

In 1998, during the middle of the American horror slump, Nakata Hideo released Ringu in Japan. The movie turned into a surprising critical and commercial success. Filmed on a modest budget of $1.3 million dollars, Ringu went on to become the highest grossing horror film in Japan, netting $137.7 million dollars [1]. Less than four years later, Gore Verbinski released his Hollywood version  The Ring. The film was so successful that Hollywood continued to remake Japanese movie after movie. In the process, this helped the original films to become more readily available in the US. This new phenomena of the importation of Japanese horror films and integration of plot lines into American remakes led film critics to ask the question, why Japan?

Click here to view the embedded video.

Trailer Ringu 1998

Click here to view the embedded video.

Trailer The Ring 2002

Genre or Japan

In a New York Times review of the Hollywood remake of the Hong Kong film The Eye, critic Terence Refferty claimed, “horror is by its nature a good deal friendlier to cross-cultural transplantation than most movie genres, because fear is universal in a way, that, say, a sense of humor is not: what we dread is far less socially determined than what we laugh at [3].” But is the appeal of these film really as simple as that they induce fear? Does horror transcend cultural distinctions?

To agree with Refferty’s claim is to ignore some of the unique aspects of J-Horror that distinguish it from US horror films. American movies often feel the need to provide some sort of logic or morality behind the plot. The tragedy that befalls the protagonist stems from a past transgression or miscalculation. Characters are normally strictly villainize or victimized. Even if we fault a character for his past decision, we sill sympathize with him as he is persecuted. J-Horror complicates this narrative. Instead of following the victim, the film often follow an avenger, who is attempting to right the wrong inflicted upon him or her. Though gore is a stable of horror regardless of country, J-Horror has also taken violence on screen to a new level. When Miike Takashi‘s Audition played at the Rotterdam Film Festival, dozens of audience members walked out and one woman even fainted and was taken to a local hospital. [3].

The US remakes share characteristics with both the original J-Horror films and typical Hollywood horror conventions. For the most part, the remakes do not deviate greatly from the plots of their source material. However, the US films devote a much larger portion of time to exposition especially if the film deals at all with supernatural elements.

It is not just plot that separates J-Horror from Hollywood horror. Even the American remakes foster the sense that there is something unique about Japan. Both Nakata Hideo and Shimizu Takashi were asked to direct the American remakes of their own  films. Shimizu even kept The Grudge located in Tokyo rather than moving the film to an American city. Japan still has a clear presence in these new interpretations [5].

The Future of Horror

Tom Mes, author of The Midnight Eye Guide to  New Japanese Film, and critics like him have begun to write that the end of J-Horror is near. He claims the proliferation of sequels and remakes has weakened the genre. The original power of a film like Ringu is destroyed as Hollywood continues to try to exploit the franchise [4]. Only time will tell if Japan is about to enter its own horror slump.

Discussion Questions:

1. Do you agree with Mes that the era of J-Horror is coming to an end?
2. Can an American remake be construed as Japanese?
3. Are J-Horror films popular becomes they are good examples of the horror genre or because they are Japanese?

Sources:

1. Mes, Tom and Jasper Sharp. The Midnight Eye Guide to New Japanese Film. Berkley: Stone Bridge Press, 2005. Print. <http://www.amazon.com/Midnight-Eye-Guide-Japanese-Film/dp/1880656892>.

2. Hantke, Steffen. American Horror Film: The Genre at the Turn of the Millennium. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2010. Print. <http://www.amazon.com/American-Horror-Film-Genre-Millennium/dp/1604734531>.

3. McRoy, Jay. Japanese Horror Cinema. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2005. Print.

<http://www.amazon.com/Japanese-Horror-Cinema-Jay-McRoy/dp/0824829905>.

4. Mes Tom and Jasper Sharp. The Midnight Eye. Midnight Eye. 2001 Web. 26 March

2011. <http://www.midnighteye.com/features/death-of-j-horror.shtml>.

5. Corliss, Richard. “Horror: Made in Japan.” Time Magazine. 25 July 2004. Print

<http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,672606,00.html>.

Contributed by Mary Grob

Sushi earrings, just one manifestation of the food

In the past forty years, sushi has taken America by storm. Beginning as an obscure immigrant import thought to be unpalatable due to its tradition of using raw fish, sushi has since exploded in popularity, becoming an American symbol of sophistication, health-consciousness, and trendiness. It has been estimated that between 1988 and 1998, the number of sushi bars in the U.S. quintupled (Isle, 2005). Sushi is now a ubiquitous commodity, available not only in high-end restaurants or sushi bars, but also as fast food, prepackaged at the grocery store or on college campuses. Even non-edible representations are popping up everywhere, in the form of accessories, clothes, and knick knacks, from earrings to purses to refrigerator magnets to shower curtains. In America, sushi has firmly established itself as “cool.” Why did this happen?

Sushi, like many other aspects of Japanese culture, came into the public eye in the 1970’s, during the rise of Japan as a global economic power. At this time, many Japanese chefs were coming to America, making Japanese cuisine more available to Japanese expatriate businessmen and their American colleagues. The increasing visibility of Japan and Japanese culture, combined with the spreading availability of sushi nationwide hooked some and interested many. Soon, celebrities and other high-profile personalities were declaring their love for sushi, while the rising culture of young, urban, health-conscious adults extolled sushi’s low-fat and high nutritional virtues. Thus, eating sushi became fashionable and cosmopolitan. Because it is sometimes perceived that the diner must have a refined palate to appreciate raw seafood, or that one must behave in certain ways to eat sushi “correctly,” the ability to appreciate “authentic” sushi correctly has become a status symbol among many Americans (Allen and Sakamoto, 2011).

However, as might be expected, sushi in America has been significantly altered from its Japanese roots. American sushi avoids some of the more exotic ingredients found in Japan and has added a few of its own local ingredients, including avocado, soft-shell crab, cucumber, and even cream cheese. Differing tastes among Americans have produced many new varieties of sushi. In fact, many American favorites are barely Japanese in origin at all, but have instead been invented in the States. Such standards as California rolls, Caterpillar rolls, Dragon Rolls, and Rainbow rolls are all classic U.S. choices that were invented in America to market to Americans. Not only are these rolls an American innovation, but rolled sushi known as maki, which Westerners are most familiar with, is itself an uncommon style of sushi in Japan. There, the most commonly eaten sushi is the simple nigiri style, which is composed simply of a ball of sushi rice topped with a sliver of raw fish. In America, the uramaki style, or “inside out roll,” with the rice on the outside and nori (seaweed) on the inside, became the most popular. Additionally, American sushi tends to be more complex, with many ingredients combined to make one roll, sometimes accompanied by sauces and elaborate garnishes (Allen and Sakamoto, 2011).

American-style Spider Roll from Tokyo's Rainbow Roll Sushi restaurant

The most curious thing about the global sushi phenomenon is that sushi has now been altered to such an extent in America that it is actually being imported back into Japan in the form of “American-style” sushi. There are now many restaurants established in Tokyo which exclusively serve “American” sushi, and they cater to Japanese rather than to expatriate Americans (Allen and Sakamoto, 2011). This style tends to emphasize maki sushi, using a wide array of other ingredients apart from raw fish, making this form of sushi at once familiar in concept and exotic in style to its Japanese consumers. Like sushi in America, American sushi in Japan is marketed to young, urban professionals as trendy, sophisticated, modern, and healthy, whereas traditional Japanese sushi is not particularly associated with any of those attributes. Unlike sushi in America, which is supposed to be low in fat and therefore eschews meat, American-style sushi in Japan includes meat ingredients, which are not traditionally used in sushi, but which carry a sense of American-ness to Japanese consumers. Menus at these restaurants emphasize the Western influence by often containing English names written in romanji, Roman characters, with descriptions below in Japanese. Often, the sushi is prepared in the kitchen, out of sight, as opposed to being prepared right before the customers’ eyes at the sushi bar, as would be the custom in a traditional Japanese sushiya (Allen and Sakamoto, 2011). All of these characteristics add to the image of American-style sushi as a foreign food. What was once an iconic and ordinary Japanese snack food was exported, transformed, and is now returning to Japan with a foreign twist, as something new and original, to be consumed in a new way with a different attitude.

Sign for Tokyo's Genji Sushi New York restaurant, which emphasizes the

This phenomenon illustrates the highly unusual cultural interplay between America and Japan. This is neither a case of Japanese culture infiltrating American tastes and preferences, as with the rise in popularity of anime and manga, or of America ingraining itself in Japanese society, as McDonalds and Hollywood have done, but rather a double exchange, a hybridization. Sushi in America is a fusion of Japanese and American cuisine, and American sushi in Japan is a fusion of that fusion. Clearly there is a mutual regard for and excitement about the novel, trendy qualities of the other’s culture and cuisine. American sushi in Japan is unique in that it captures and integrates together the dueling Japanese sense of national pride and identity with the desire for novel, foreign, and especially American items. Perhaps this phenomenon is among the first drops in a wave of global cultural hybridization to come.

Discussion questions:
1) What is it about an American version of a traditional Japanese dish that Japanese find appealing? Allen and Sakamoto suggest that, because it is perceived as new and different, that “American sushi’s consumption in Japan can be understood, therefore, as a kind of playful fetish,” akin to those for school girls, blonde boy bands, butler cafes, and cuteness. What do you think about this idea? What are some other possible reasons for the popularity of American sushi in Japan?

2) When something is treated as Japanese in America, and as American in Japan, where does it come from and how can it be defined? How can we understand the origin of this kind of culture? What are the implications of this seeming lack of cultural boundaries?

3) Allen and Sakamoto write that “[Japanese] consumers eat [American sushi] with curiosity, playfulness, and at times even with irony, conscious that they are consuming others’ perceptions of something they are familiar with in its “authentic” Japanese form.” Does this observation support Iwabuchi’s suggestions that Japanese engage in self-Orientalism by believing their culture to be impossible for a non-Japanese to understand, and perhaps finding amusement in the misconceptions that foreigners have of Japanese?

Sources:
Allen, Matthew and Sakamoto, Rumi, Sushi Reverses Course: Consuming American Sushi in Tokyo, The Asia-Pacific Journal Vol 9, Issue 5 No 2, January 31, 2011.

http://japanfocus.org/-Mathew-Allen/3481

Iwabuchi, Koichi, Recentering Globalization: Popular Culture and Japanese Nationalism. Duke University Press, 2002

Ray Isle, Sushi in America http://www.foodandwine.com/articles/sushi-in-america

Imagine, that, for whatever reason, life seems simply unbearable to you. You may be in school and being constantly bullied, or having a job you hate with no foreseeable hope for a better one, or you may simply be depressed. Now think, what kind of solution is there for you? In Japan, one of the most common answers for young people seems to be “stay home and don’t come out”. An increasingly prevalent issue in modern Japan, and especially its youth, is that of the hikikomori. Literally meaning something like “being confined”, it refers to the shut-in population of the country. However, this does not refer to those who must remain in their homes because of extenuating circumstances like health, but rather fully healthy (usually) individuals who simply refuse to leave their house, and often not even their room at that. Some may occasionally leave for such things as short shopping trips or meals with their family. [1] And interestingly enough, around 80 percent of hikikomori are male. [2]

It is also important to note that the development of the hikikomori as a social phenomenon is a relatively recent one; its first inklings began to appear around the mid-80′s. [1] One of the factors attributed as a spark to the proverbial flame is Japan’s lackluster economy; many young Japanese, not just hikikomori, are without jobs, or part-time ones at the most. And thanks to this, an overall feeling of depression or helplessness so characteristic of the “hikki” mindset has begun to emerge. However, at the same time, it is common for many Japanese youth to live with their parents anyway, and because of the disposable income this older generation has despite economic trouble, the option of staying home becomes more and more appealing. It only gets better when one learns that parents of hikikomori often do financially support their children into adulthood. [1]

However, these “hikki” are not returning to their houses simply because they are lazy, as easy as it would be to label them that way. Instead, it appears more likely that this seclusion is a very Japanese response to the messages that permeate Japanese society. Contrary to the messages seen in the West that promote independence and action from an early age, Japan takes pride in obedience, conformity, and discipline. As a result, instead of the loud, rebellious “punks” one sees in Western culture, it is believed by some that hikikomori have the same intentions or feelings of “not fitting in”, and that society has led them to “rebel” by shrinking away. [2] As spoken by the mother of a hikikomori, “a person who challenges, or makes a mistake, or thinks for himself, either leaves Japan or becomes a hikikomori.” [2] These people may find fault with Japanese society or feel stifled by it, but because of its nature, there is nowhere for them to go but in. Some propose that the Japanese tendency to see solitude as something noble helps the hikki cause as well.

Now, there seems to be something very odd about all this (aside from the obvious). How do these people manage to survive? Or, to be more specific, why do the parents of these shut-ins continue to feed and/or at least provide a home for their children? It seems difficult to understand here; it seems more common for people to kick out a lazy twenty-something, or to help them find a job if the problem is not as serious. But it seems to come down, once again, to some of the ideas of Japanese culture. Used to already providing for their children, as so many Japanese parents do, some simply become used to the idea of continuing to do so. Others follow the mantra of not sticking out or rocking the boat, and so attempt to keep “business as usual” within the home. Sadatsugu Kudo, the head of Youth Support Center, one of many hikikomori “rehabilitation groups”, explains that “Most parents feel that hikikomori is a failure of their child-rearing.” [1] However, some parents genuinely fear that their child will no longer be able to function in the real world, and that the only way for them to survive is to be supported by these parents [1].

The emergence of the hikikomori holds a unique space within the borders of National Cool; while it is a known phenomenon within it, and has garnered a good deal of attention, it represents one of the harsher realities of Japan. It is studied about by those captured by its flashier exterior but in the end its negative qualities are often glossed over or worse, idealized into a “way of life” rather than a serious problem. Will this trend only grow as time goes on, or will something change to halt its growth? And even if something does change, will one thing be enough, or will these people remain almost literally and hopelessly encapsulated, while the rest of Japan flows on ahead?

Discussion:

Some believe that the existence of the hikikomori represents a uniquely Japanese social disorder. Do you agree with this thought, or is it possible to find people living similar lifestyles for similar reasons around the world?

If one of the purported reasons for hikikomori is the current ideal of Japanese society, do you think their numbers will rise in the future?

An odd note is that 80 percent of hikikomori are male. Why do you think male hikikomori are more prevalent than female ones? In addition, do you think there are unique factors that influence these few female hikki?

Sources:
1. Jones, Maggie. “Shutting Themselves In.” The New York Times. 15 Jan 2006. Web. 26 Mar 2011. http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/15/magazine/15japanese.html?pagewanted=1&_r=2
2. Zielenziger, Michael. “Retreating Youth Become Japan’s ‘Lost Generation’.” Excerpt from Shutting Out the Sun. NPR. 24 Nov. 2006. Web. 26 Mar 2011. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6535284
3. Gallagher, Paul. “Hikikomori – The Silent Sufferers.” Dangerous Minds. 14 Nov. 2010. Web. 26 Mar 2011. http://www.dangerousminds.net/comments/hikikomori_the_silent_sufferers/

Fashion is the means of expressing identity. Dressing is a ritualistic, symbolic, everyday practice that we use to situate ourselves in the chaotic, judgmental world around us.  The simple act of putting on a piece of clothing immediately conveys one’s position of cultural power, class distinction, gender, and subculture, all while participating in the global economy. Deciding what we wear matters, especially in an urban, capitalist society where fashion is a tool to distinguish ourselves from one another. On an international scale, the fashion industry represents an interesting view of understanding national power and identity [3].

Professional Designers Dare to be Different

The early 1980s marked an explosion of Japanese fashion in the global industry. The fashion world reacted strongly to the avant-garde, radically different ideas of the country’s designers. The new garments articulated different ideas of what fashion was and the relationship of clothes and body. Japan gradually became a genuine force of change, challenging tradition and introducing new artistic contradictions [3].

In order to stand out from mainstream fashion and fabricate an “essence of Japaneseness,” [3] The densely populous nature of Japan naturally creates a desire for differentiation [1], and the “consumption of a cultural good (clothing) performs an increasingly important role on the construction of personal identity [2].” Native Japanese designers work to challenge convention. Amanda Mayer Stinchecum, a historian specializing in the cloth and clothing of Ryukyu, Okinawa, and mainland Japan said, “[These designers] make us realize that the designs we take for granted are merely conventions that fashion has been following and reinterpreting for the last 50 years. The Japanese have stepped outside these conventions and made something new, something of their own.” And it is the fact that these designers are questioning fashion that allows them to work against what is accepted and invent their own, new genre of clothing beyond the boundaries of nationality. “I hoped to create a new universal clothing which is challenging to our time,” stated famous fashion designer Issey Miyake [3].

Issey Miyake Designs

A Japanese Identity

Creating a separate identity is very important for Japan. Japanese fashion designers have to work hard to combat Orientalism and European cultural hegemony that dominates what is culturally and aesthetically acceptable in the fashion realm. Power and standards of beauty are directly related. An article in Vogue featured a spread on Japanese fashion designers of the 1980s as major fashion influences, but used war rhetoric when labeling the images as the “Japanese invasion.” Japan can’t escape its view as oriental, as a country compared to the mighty fashion standards of Europe and America. Kondo writes:

“An editor with American Elle told me that many French fashion people are fascinated with Japan, for they consider Japan to be the only country truly to appreciate and to understand French fashion on an aesthetic level… the utterance reasserts the centrality of French fashion as a standard. The air of authority with which pronouncements of Western superiority are made gives eloquent testimony to the battles for recognition in which the Japanese designers work in what they consider to be a postmodern, transnational space, persistent tropes of nation and culture push them back into an essentialized Japanese identity.”[3]

Post-Bubble Effect on Teens

The reason why Japan is struggling to find an identity for the nation and its people is due to the burst of the economic bubble in the late 1990s. A mass feeling of disillusionment wafted over the country. The sudden recession and inflation after such a prosperous economic period led to a different lifestyle for the Japanese youth. Traditional family, social, and economic systems have gradually become weaker. The Japanese value system, especially that of teens, changed. Since 1998, teens between 14 and 19 have been involved in 50% of all felony arrests, including murder [2]. Many twenty-somethings continue to live at home due to high real-estate prices. Living rent-free, these young adults can spend their money on clothing, making them the largest consumer demographic. The shopping districts of Japan are swarmed with young people, with hardly a sign of anyone over thirty. Curator Koji Yoshida explains that the “phenomenon of the free-spending Japanese youth is a product of paternal guilt. After the bubble burst, fathers lost their rights and respect. They had to appease their children by giving them lots of gifts and money.” Under these social and economic conditions, teens became increasingly creative and innovative to try and create their new, individual post-bubble identity. Just like Japanese fashion designers, they wanted to grab attention, break traditional rules, and challenge and redefine the existing notion of what is fashionable and aesthetic [4].

In order to feel accepted, teens wanted to share an affiliation through fashion, communicating and bonding through clothing, while remaining an individual. The result is the rise of Japanese street fashion. A social network of various street subculture identities, each with their original look, gives Japanese teens the edge and identity they crave, visually symbolized in their fashion persona. Completely guided by teens, “street fashion in the fashionable districts of Tokyo, such as Harajuku and Shibuya, is independent of any mainstream fashion system and goes beyond the conventional model of fashion business with different marketing strategies and occupational categories [2].”

White, baggy socks

In 1993, one of the first trends was to wear long, baggy white socks bunched up at the ankle like legwarmers amongst high school girls in Tokyo. By 1996, the trend was so popular that if you weren’t wearing them, it was embarrassing. As many as 35 different types of loose socks were sold in stores, and it is still acceptable to wear them today in suburbs and small towns. The fashion industry leapt on the opportunity to take advantage of the marketing potential of teens and their rebellion against mainstream fashion [2].

Teens as Trendsetters, Consumers, Icons, and Designers of Street Fashion

Over the past 10 years, a separate system of fashion with a new business model has been created in Japan in order to commercialize street fashion and post the market. Girls have become the driving force for the street fashion scene. They spend much of their time and money on clothes and makeup because it is a way for them to stand out and get noticed, also a way of rebelling against tradition. Urban schoolgirls championed the start of street fashion in the mid-1990s, and today much of the fashion economy is centered around the opinions and wallets of teenage girls [2].

Shibuya 109 Department Store

March 2011 Issue of Popteen

The holy land of street fashion resides in the Shibuya district at a place called the Shibuya 109 (pronounced as Shibuya Ichi-Maru-Kyu) Department Store. More than 100 hip and inexpensive stores on 10 levels supply the Japanese teenagers with the newest fashions. Here at Shibuya 109 also lies the holy grail of street fashion: the salesgirl position. Surprisingly the most coveted job in the street fashion industry, salesgirls are an integral part to buying and selling the merchandise, as well as designing for the store labels, so becoming a salesgirl is extremely coveted and competitive. The salesgirls have first-hand knowledge of the kind of tastes the teens have and what garments and accessories they are looking for because of their direct day-to-day contact with the teen customers. “The salesgirls themselves become icons, known as karisuma tenin, literally translated as charismatic salesgirls.” When the popular street fashion magazine, Popteen, surveyed 500 Shibuya teens for who their fashion role models were, there were no celebrities ranked in the top five. Among the icons listed were amateur high school models that appeared in street fashion magazines and salesgirls in the 109 Department Store [2]. 

The idea of a teen consumer as a designer goes against our Western fashion industry, where trends are set by companies for us consumers to follow and purchase. The teens’ voices are valued over professional designers’ visions when it comes to street fashion. Teens dictate what they want and then it is produced. Just like the ADD nature of teenagers, Japanese street fashion is constantly changing, trends spread like wildfire, and all of a sudden everyone is wearing it [2]. Because of the fast-moving trend cycles, scarcity becomes a key ingredient to street fashion culture. Only a few copies of each garment or accessory are produced, making them expensive and in high demand. Shifts of teenagers wait in lines outside stores, where twenty or so at a time are let through the doors to rush in, scour the shelves, and leave only for another wave of frantic teens to come in. Hours are spent waiting in line, but this becomes a fun activity for Japanese teens to do with their friends [4].

The obvious differences and outlandishness of Japanese fashion to the Western eye can be more easily understood when explained in terms of the fervent search for a unique, modern Japanese identity. Japan’s urge to revive itself from its economic crash, and long-lasting cultural devastation from WWII, comes in its attempts for a fresh, futuristic take on culture, technology, and social norms. With fashion as a strong visual representation of Japan’s youth culture’s changing attitudes, we can see Japan’s future being challenged and morphed by this creative and eccentric generation.

Discussion Questions:

1. Is a high-priced, fast-paced fashion market driven by teens a sustainable economic practice for post-bubble Japan?
2. Beauty is simply defined differently by the Japanese, and they are continually pushing the boundaries. Do you see a place for the Japanese outlandish aesthetic in mainstream fashion? Are we just witnessing the beginnings of the future of fashion?
3. The word otaku means being focused and almost obsessed with something you like. Otaku originally referred to a category of young Japanese men who were fixated on manga. The word is now used to describe someone with a fanatical interest in computers or fashion. In a frantic search for an individual identity, what is the significance of teens’ obsession with fashion?
4. What are the differences between the fashion produced by high fashion designers, like Issey Miyake, and street fashion “designers”?

Related Links

Japanese Streets

“Freaky Fashion Trends” of Japan

Issey Miyake’s Website

Video of Japanese Shop Girls

Sources

1. Fernie, John, and Nobukazu Azuma. “The changing nature of Japanese fashion, Can quick response improve supply chain efficiency?.” Emerald Journal of Marketing 38.7 (2004): 790-804. Web. 18 Mar 2011. <http://www.emeraldinsight.com/journals.htm?articleid=853944>.
2. Kawamura, Yuniya. “Japanese Teens as Producers of Street Fashion.” Current Sociology 54.5 (2006): 784-801. Web. 18 Mar 2011. <http://csi.sagepub.com/content/54/5/784.full.pdf+html>.
3. Kondo, Dorinne. “The Aesthetics and Politics of Japanese Identity in the Fashion Industry.” Re-made in Japan, Everyday life and the consumer taste in a changing society. Ed. Joseph J. Tobin. New Haven/London: Yale University Press, 1992. Print.
4. Mead, Rebecca. “Letter from Tokyo: Shopping Rebellion.” New Yorker 18 Mar 2002: n. pag. Web. 20 Mar 2011. <http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2002/03/18/020318fa_FACT?currentPage=1>.

by Lauren Klaasse

Almost every gamer who was around in the 1990′s and 2000′s nostalgically remembers their first time playing what is critically regarded as some of the greatest games of all time. Super Mario Brothers, Final Fantasy VII, Ocarina of Time, and Pokémon, among others, that went into forging these childhood memories all hail from the Land of the Rising Sun. For years the Japanese have dominated the gaming industry since it took off in the 1980′s cementing their creations in the childhood of so many Americans. Talk to American gamers now however and you hear talk of much different popular franchises (Halo, Call of Duty, Grand Theft Auto to name a few) originating from across the Pacific Ocean in none other than the west itself.

Left: Top 5 Games by Sales of 2000; Right: Top 5 Games by Sales of 2011.

Where have all the Japanese games gone? Has America simply lost its taste for these games or have Japanese developers simply lost their mojo? There is no one simple answer but in just ten short years the top 10 selling games went from being saturated by a pantheon of Japanese developers to being represented by only a mere few. This is an alarming statistic for a country who already is economically wavering and subsiding off a good deal of its cultural exports. The  global video game industry is incredibly profitable and despite a global economic slump it is projected to draw in over $48.9 billion globally in 2011¹. For Japan to lose out to foreign competitors in America is a huge blow to an industry they helped to pioneer. So then what can be blamed for this trend?

International Competition

Throughout the 1990′s and the beginning of the 2000′s Japanese game developers and console makers had almost complete saturation of the gaming market. Looking at the list of the top games from 2000, it is almost impossible to see a developer that is not Japanese in origin. A keen observer would notice however that a good number of these developers have since vanished. Gaming’s seventh generation was gearing up to become a real, pardon the pun, game changer. Japan saw for the first time a console that was developed by a non-Japanese source and a technology giant in its own right: Microsoft. It brought with it an influx of international third party franchises that pushed the boundaries of game creation both in terms of gameplay and, even more importantly, finances. Grand Theft Auto IV, created by the United Kingdom’s Rockstar, managed to set a Guinness World Record for the highest video game production cost topping at $100 million dollars and crushing the $70 million record held by Japan’s Sega Corporation for the development of Shenmue. It ended up making over $500 million. That number is just child’s play though compared to the American produced Call of Duty: Black Ops, who as of 2011, has become the best-selling video game in history, making over $1 billion in sales². To cope with these higher development costs and skyrocketing profit competition on newer generation consoles several companies either folded from the console market (Sega) or merged (Square-Enix)

Tired Franchises

There is a saying that all good things come to an end. Some would like to say that Japanese game developers never got that message. Companies like Nintendo and Square-Enix have hedged much of their profits on the endless expansions of popular franchises that once defined the gaming landscape. Mario, Nintendo’s flagship mascot, has been a part of international pop culture for going on 30 years. The Legend of Zelda: 25 years. Final Fantasy: 24 Years. Sales still remain strong but with franchises that run this long, it is hard not to overlook the fact that long time fans of these series might find the newer incarnations not up to par. No other game in the Legend of Zelda series has been able to meet the high standards set by the 1998 release of Ocarina of Time which itself has been re-released four times and slated for its fifth this year on the Nintendo 3DS. The most recent title in the Final Fantasy series (Final Fantasy XIV) was critically panned, receiving a rather damning score of just 49 out of 100 from Metacritic. Compare that to nostalgic favorites such as 1997 release Final Fantasy VII and 2001 release Final Fantasy X, both garnering a 92 out of 100.

Smartphone Gaming

A recent phenomenon however could prove in the near future to be another blow to the Japanese game industry in America: the rise of the Smartphone. Generally Japanese gamers are attached to their handhelds like the Nintendo DS or Playstation Portable where games can cost $30-$40 dollars and it has been exported into to a lucrative business State-side as well. Then along came Apple, its iPhone/iPod Touch, and the App Store. Development for this platform is drastically cheaper than its console counterparts, encouraging the production of small scale indie games that sell from $0.99 to a few dollars; a far cry from console gaming’s steep price tags. Rovio Mobile Ltd’s Peter Vesterbacka (the game developer behind the immensely popular Angry Birds with over 100 million downloads) recently touted that mobile gaming will be the downfall of consoles and the expensive blockbusters that come with it³. According to Bloomburg, mobile phones capable of gaming are set to rise 11.4 percent to 1.27 billion while the shipments of portable game systems produced by Nintendo and Sony could drop 2.5 percent to 38.9 million⁴. The mass market is there for mobile gaming to take off. It could just be a matter of when.

These arguments for Japan’s decline in the gaming market are as much as you can garner from hard data that is published but left out is a distinctly human element. To people who would not consider themselves regular gamers, what nation produces the games might not matter as much so long as they are entertaining and affordable. But to those who have played video games since practically childbirth there is a distinct nostalgia factor attached to Japanese produced games, especially those produced in the 1990′s and 2000′s. When recent Japanese games start to lose out to its western competitors or even to nostalgic expectations it brings about a great deal of disappointment. Let’s just hope it is not the signs of a Game Over for the birthplace of the industry.

Discussion Questions:

Do American/western produced games nod to their Japanese roots or are games becoming distinctly “Western” and “Japanese”? Does this decline in Japanese game influence in America reflect a greater drop in “Gross National Cool”?

*Updated 3/16/2011* Further Reading:

Hiroko Tabuchi. Japanese Playing a New Video Game: Catch-Up. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/20/technology/20game.html?_r=1&ref=business

Interview with former head of global research and development and global head of production at Capcom: Keiji Inafune. http://bits.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/09/20/one-on-one-keiji-inafune-game-designer/

Sources:

1. Scanlon, Jessie. “The Video Game Industry Outlook: $31.6 Billion and Growing.” BusinessWeek. 13 Aug. 2007. Web. 12 Mar. 2011. <http://www.businessweek.com/innovate/content/aug2007/id20070813_120384.htm?chan=search>

2. Whitworth, Dan. “BBC – Newsbeat – Call of Duty: Black Ops Is the Best Selling Game Ever.” BBC. Web. 13 Mar. 2011. <http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/12734749>.

3. ”Angry Birds Dev Declares Console Games “Dying”" IGN. 14 Mar. 2011. Web. 14 Mar. 2011. <http://wireless.ign.com/articles/115/1155372p1.html>.

4. Kjetland, Ragnhild. “Apple Eats Into Nintendo, Sony Sales as the IPhone Plays to Gamers.” Bloomberg. 8 Sept. 2010. Web. 14 Mar. 2011. <http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2010-09-08/apple-eats-into-nintendo-sony-s-console-sales-as-iphone-plays-to-gamers.html>.

In 2010, the Japanese Visual Kei band X Japan came to America.  The group had been invited to perform in Chicago’s music festival, Lollapalooza, and were greeted by both their screaming fans and the incredibly confused representatives of the American media.  A core cluster of questions seemed to plague the minds of all the uninitiated Americans who came into contact with them: “What is ‘visual kei’? How can it be understood in the context of American music? Why is it in America at all?” Studying not only the correct reply to these questions but also understanding why the questions arose at all reveals a lot about the barrier that still exists between Japan’s “gross national cool” and mainstream America.

The answer to “What is ‘visual kei’?” varies greatly depending on who is being asked, especially when those answering are outsiders or Westerners.

Publicity photo of X Japan, used in the eighties

A Los Angeles Times article regarding the work of X Japan in the United States referred to the group as being a pop act, hard-rockers, and heavy metalists, all within the space of two paragraphs (Lee). Some believe that the genre has “roots in the style of androgynous and transvestite musicians like David Bowie” (Levi 248) while Yoshiki Hayashi, the face of the band and one of the two founding members, cites Kiss and Metallica as their biggest influences (Harris). What visual kei does have, regardless of origin or inspiration, is large, multi-colored hair, androgynous appearances, and heavy make-up. Just as Hello Kitty seems to attempt to reach a point of total mukokuseki, or statelessness, visual kei groups often seem to be trying to reach a point of total genderlessness.

Despite the predominately Western roots of the genre, however, the American media continued to regard X Japan as “a singularly Japanese brand of heavy metal thunder” (Lee). As though to emphasize this “Japaneseness,” every single news article that I managed to discover regarding Yoshiki in American newspapers made reference to the fact that Yoshiki is the first person to have a Hello Kitty doll modeled after him, the Yoshikitty. The seeming inseparable nature of Yoshiki and, through him, X Japan, from the “singularly Japanese” Hello Kitty shows that, though both the band and the doll strive to reach a point characteristicless-ness, neither actually succeeds.

The Yoshikitty Doll

Visual kei thus being a foreign phenomenon seemingly entirely beyond the understanding of the Western media, the language in which X Japan’s arrival was framed is fascinating. Not only are they “invading” Japan, as you can hear in an excerpt from Fox News’ coverage of the band, but they are “attempting” to make the cross over from “world music performers” to a “legitimate pop act” (Lee). Not only is this “singularly Japanese” band a foreign invasion, but they are not one with any perceived quality, defined instead solely by their foreignness. The existence of American fans of the band is either glossed over or ignored entirely. While Lee’s article discusses the promotional video filming X Japan held in Hollywood earlier in the year, he describes the eight thousand fans in attendance as people who had traveled “all the way from Japan for the event,” while adding as almost an after-thought that there were also “no small amount of American J-Rock enthusiasts in tow.” The American fans are thus portrayed as a minor, niche group, positioned as an “other” to the paper’s reader, the majority of whom who would not be “American J-rock enthusiasts.”

2010 was not the first year that X Japan attempted to break into the American market. In fact, their song IV is on the soundtrack for the movie “Saw IV” and topped the US iTunes daily chart in both the Overall Sales and Rock categories (Blabbermouth). Few of the articles regarding their 2010 reemergence make mention of this fact, however. They choose instead to frame the appearance of the band on the American consciousness as entirely out of left field and temporary. This framing reveals not only the reporters’ lack of understanding of the history and fanbase of the group, their impact on American culture already and the ways in which they have managed to amass fans overseas, but also their fear of the group’s success.

IV’s Promotional Video:

Click here to view the embedded video.

The genre of visual kei is undeniably an “other” to the mainstream American mindset. The style involves lots of cosmetics and lots of hair, and standing out as strongly as possible in ways that are not the acceptable, American ways to stand out. In fact, the style has a lot in common with that embraced by Lady Gaga, and the reaction of the mainstream media to her first appearance, especially the “damaging” rumors of her transsexuality, reveals that even American artists are slotted into a position of “other” when they attempt a similar look. A legitimately foreign artist trying the same therefore has even less of a chance of being viewed as acceptable.

However, no one can deny that Lady Gaga has achieved mainstream success in America. This success story does not offer X Japan the same sort of hope, however. While Gaga’s otherness only really became a factor after she had started becoming popular, X Japan’s otherness is present from the very beginning of their “invasion.” They are “taking on” the US, as the ABC article makes clear from its title, and are thus not merely trying to achieve fame and success but trying to steal it, in a way, as though they will only get it by taking it away from America.

In short, X Japan may try to enter into the American market, but the response of the American media to their show at Lollapalooza and their subsequent desire to tour reveals that they continue to be an “other” to mainstream America, just as Hello Kitty cannot help but remain “singularly Japanese” in spite of her mukokuseki nature. Not only are they “other,” however, but they are an “invading” other that the mainstream America continues to fear and strive to ignore. Essentially, Japanese culture still has a while to go before its “gross national cool” moves out of the American niche.

Discussion Questions:

Has “characteristiclessness” become something “singularly Japanese” to Americans?

Is the only value of X Japan that of “world music” or do they have value inherent as musicians as well?

Does X Japan stand any chance of becoming mainstream in America? What is the greatest obstacle to their success?

Related Links:

Article on the perceived fetishism of visual kei, written by a scholar in Austria: http://www.uri.edu/iaics/content/2007v16n1/10%20Miyuki%20Hashimoto.pdf

ABC News’ article on X Japan’s plan to tour the US in 2011: http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory?id=13090526

ABC News’ interview of Yoshiki: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8WBP55X9lGc

Fox News’ coverage of X Japan’s arrival: http://video.foxnews.com/v/4309782/x-japan-is-coming-to-america/

Sources:

“BLABBERMOUTH.NET – GUNS N’ ROSES Guitarist To Perform With X JAPAN In Tokyo.” Roadrunner Records | Official Home of Slipknot, Nickelback, Theory of a Deadman, Lenny Kravitz, Young the Giant, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Trivium, Megadeth, Dream Theater, and All the Best in Rock, Hard Rock, and Metal. 20 Mar. 2008. Web. 11 Mar. 2011.    <http://www.roadrunnerrecords.com/blabbermouth.net/news.aspx?mode=Article&newsitemID=93306>.

Harris, Dan and Enjoli Francis. “Japan’s Bono: Yoshiki is Ready to Take on the U.S.”   ABCNews 8-10-2010. 3-11-2011 <http://abcnews.go.com/WN/yoshiki-japans-bono-ready-us/story?id=11358722>.

Lee, Chris. “America, meet Yoshiki.” Los Angeles Times 7-25-2010. 3-11-2011 <http://articles.latimes.com/2010/jul/25/entertainment/la-ca-yoshiki-20100725>.

Levi, Antonia, Mark McHarry, and Dru Pagliassotti. Boys’ Love Manga: Essays on the Sexual Ambiguity and Cross-Cultural Fandom of the Genre. Jefferson, NC: McFarland &, 2008.  Print.

My name is Gibson Haynes, and I am a sophomore majoring in Linguistics and, prospectively, Asian and Middle East Studies. My first interaction with Japanese export was that ubiquitous commercial phenomenon Pokemon, which hooked me from the beginning. I found the films of Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli soon after, and life thereafter contained on-again off-again touches of popular Japanese exports (Final Fantasy, Naruto, etc.).

Most of my experience in the study of East Asia has revolved around Chinese, however, and I have always heretofore studied Japan through the lens of China. Considering I have no extensive knowledge of Japanese culture, but plenty of interest in acquiring it, I signed up for the course.  I hope to gain a stronger understanding of Japan as it presents itself to the world.

As I grew older I gained an appreciation for a more traditional side of Japanese culture, and I began to collect books of ukiyo-e and haiku. Eventually I developed an intense interest in Zen Buddhism. These expressions seemed to both complement and clash with the other Japanese things I loved, anime such as Neon Genesis Evangelion and Serial Experiments Lain, or the films of Sion Sono and Shunji Iwai. I saw both continuity and departure.

Over time my interest in Japan and Japanese products has been influenced by my passion for critical theory and postmodern philosophy, as I try to understand what sociological trends lie behind my impressions. The diverse and manifold expressions of Japanese art still seem dauntingly varied and complex to me, and I always feel like I’m uncovering new worlds (recent fixations have been noise musicians such as Merzbow, Hijokaidan, and Keiji Haino and the manga of Suehiro Maruo). Studying the Japanese language has in a way grounded my interest(s) in the culture(s), and I hope to visit the country as soon as possible.

I wanna be the very best.

Boku wa Keenan desu. I’ve liked Japan and its exports since Pokemon. I captured them all, but they captured my heart. Since Pokemon I’ve indulged in an anime or seven. I’ve always had an interest in martial arts. I started with karate. At some point I think Taekwon Do happened too, but I eventually graduated to kung fu because it was prettier. Sorry, Japan…and Korea. I’m a pretty big fan of Japanese music, namely: Nujabes, The Pillows, and Asobi Seksu.

I’m in my second year of Nihongo now. I love it because it’s almost as malleable as English in regard to slang, and the senseis are pretty sugoi. Since entering college I’ve taken every Japan-centered course I could, and I’ve learned a good bit. I hope to study abroad soon, so I want to learn as much as possible as hayaku as possible. For those of you who read and clicked to the end, here’s a picture of me as Jigglypuff.

Posing with King Slime at Nintendo World in NYC.

Arthi Aravind is a sophomore planning to major in Literary and Cultural Studies. Ever since she discovered Pokémon and early Studio Ghibli films as a child, she has been fascinated with Japanese culture and is interested in learning more about it in an academic setting. Her specific interest is in visual culture, so she hopes to learn more about advertising, art, design, and media in Japan. She enjoy anime films and TV shows (most recently Death Note, Ghost in the Shell, and Paprika) and plays new Gameboy games on a regular basis. One of her favorite foods is inari sushi and she likes reading about kitsune myths.

The cable boom of American television brought documentary channels into my home and with them histories of noble warriors in brightly brocaded armor, taking one another’s heads, dying for their loyalties (sometimes at their own hand), and taking the time amidst it all to fix a cup of tea and write some seriously emo poetry.  These images and tales were so much more arresting to me on a Saturday morning after the animation petered out than watching Zach Morris and rest of the Bayside Gang hang around The Max and bear witness to the peaking of Mario Lopez’s career.

In my youth I graduated from blowing dust out of Nintendo cartridges to Super NES and N64, from coaxial to VGA, along side rest of the home entertainment industry.  Through the local video store I saw Bruce Willis allegorize World War II by tossing an evil German off of the top of an ultramodern Japanese monolith and defend a nation’s flagging cowboy pride in the process.  I sat with rapt attention as a teenager, watching the immortal and interminably scruffy Mifune swagger across Kurosawa’s quicksilver frame for the first time the same year the man himself died quietly in a metropolitan hospital half a world away.

This confluence of events, circumstances, exposure, and media technology gave me a fondness and affinity for Japan, its history, and its culture that has grown and deepened over the years, keeping pace with the advent of the internet and the proliferation of highspeed broadband.  I have watched the popular cultures of two nations that are inextricably tied together through the bonds of war and commerce bleed further into one another with an increasing fascination on the unique results of this cultural crosspollination.

“The Boondocks”:  Huey Freeman vs. the zatoichi

Click here to view the embedded video.

The Japanese influence of the animation style is taken to it’s natural conclusion with backing music from American hip-hop group and martial arts film enthusiasts, the Wu-Tang Clan.

“I Gotcha” by Lupe Fiasco

Click here to view the embedded video.

A talented American Muslim performer whose love for Japanese pop culture is evident in the opening scene.  Oh, and the giant robot that comes in towards the end to loom over the proceedings.

Hanging out with some distant cousins in Arashiyama Monkey Park in Kyoto

Hello!  My name is Claire Dranginis and I am senior majoring in East Asian Studies with a minor in Management and Organizational Leadership.  My introduction to the Japanese language was in high school, when through the strange power of the internet I became a fan of the the “Visual Kei” band Dir En Grey.  I soon started listening to many other Japanese rock bands, and my interest in the language that all these groups were singing in grew.  I decided to give learning Japanese a shot, and started to teach myself.  My study of Japanese has led me to a greater interest in Japanese culture outside of the weird rock bands that I loved as a high schooler.

I was fortunate enough to be able to study at Keio University in Tokyo last spring semester, and my experience there both gave me greater insight into Japan and left me with more questions.  I look forward to thinking about the answers to those questions in our class this semester!

Hey all, I’m Dylan Reilly in case you missed the title for some reason, and I’m a freshman here at W&M. As far as majors and such go, I’m looking into Global Studies, concentrating on East Asian and Hispanic Studies.

So…this would be where you all get to learn how Japan has influenced my life. Well, it’s definitely influenced it a lot. Like many, my first entry into Japanese culture would be through Pokemon at the age of 6; from then I was hooked. I watched many of the popular Japanese shows brought to the US, like Digimon and Yugioh, and played video games throughout my childhood, the majority of which were – you guessed it – Japanese. As I grew older, I discovered manga and the sheer multitude of anime that existed at the time, and my fascination only grew. Soon, however, I developed an interest in the language, food, and some of the culture of Japan. By age 13, I had learned katakana and hiragana as well as becoming more or less addicted to sushi. I would also find myself doodling characters in an anime style to the best of my eighth-grade ability.

I’d still say a lot of that interest has stayed with me – I still read manga, and watch the occasional anime, and certainly play games, but I’ve found myself more interested in the pop culture in general, some of its music, its food, and of course the language. I’d find it safe to say Japan doesn’t dominate my life as it may have in the past — but regardless, it’s continued to shape me in some ways even today.

At the library I read Japanese history, daydreamed about samurai, and occasionally turned in haiku for literature-class poetry assignments (motivated as much by their fleeting, transparent profundity as the form’s appealingly brief length).  Meanwhile, through friends willing to lend me their Game Boys on the bus ride to elementary school, I gradually began to become familiar with another Japan– notable, as it had been in the 19th century, primarily as a source  of New Things That Were Extremely Cool- chief among them the Nintendo 64 and the Tamagotchi.

These, while never quite understood as “foreign”, were unified in our minds as “better than American”. They were high-tech, and carried an appealing whiff of the exotic about them–  while meanwhile, as an added bonus, they were completely incomprehensible to our uninitiated parents.

Without an allowance to buy a fighting-quality deck of cards, I managed to miss out on the Pokémon craze, but I can still remember passing from hand to hand a friend’s hallowed holographic, Japanese-edition Articuno. Worth a sum inconceivable to a 5th grader, its back covered with completely indecipherable characters, it was familiar yet alien, almost totemic, and deeply, deeply cool.

That feeling of appealing, familiar strangeness persisted when, in late high school, I was introduced to the world of classic Japanese film, and eventually to anime. These movies and TV shows, which my friends, active in the borderlands of the fansub community, passed around furtively, were at once accessible and impenetrable. With a little experience, one could discern common themes, visual motifs, and stock characters, some of them clearly derived from Western sources, others from the older aesthetic traditions I’d already been introduced to– and yet even these seemed unfamiliar, refracted by cultural distance and dubious translation. Before long, I began to see these, in turn, being re-adopted in American works, and even re-re-adopted back in Japan.

It is, in part, the desire to close this frustrating, exhilarating gap, and better understand the forces that lie behind it, that has since led me towards my current, intensive study of Japanese language and culture. I’m taking Gross National Cool to forward this goal– to find my way to the heart of the cross-cultural currents that continue to power “coolness” on both sides of the Pacific.

From a Government major standpoint, interest in Japan is nearly as political as it is cultural. With China becoming a dominate force in Asia, it is easy to ride off Japan as a “has been” power. Despite this, Japan remains a key ally to the United States and a cultural powerhouse that catches American interest on a daily basis; something China has yet to effectively achieve. She is fascinated as to how a nation that has seen better economic days can prove to be just as relevant today through soft power than it was in the 80′s.

In 9th grade, it was Game / Set / Match for Japan. Through BECK: Mongolian Chop Squad, I had found a passion for Japanese music. I picked up the bass guitar for the very first time, and I dove in deep into J-Rock. Asian Kung Fu Generation, Sambomaster, The Pillows, L’arc En Ciel, Janne d’Arc, Beat Crusaders, Husking Bee, Last Alliance, and many more. A couple of years later, I picked up the electric guitar and my life had completely changed.

Click here to view the embedded video.

In 04, one of the biggest phenomenons to hit Japan was released and made its mark in Japan’s music industry: The Vocaloid. Hatsune Miku, the cover girl for the first synthetic vocal software voiced by Saki Fujita, began dominating YouTube and NicoNicoDouga. With the release of this software, amateur songwriters and musicians were able to find a voice for their musical creations. Today, many Vocaloid Composers have surfaced with their CD’s in stores and their music on NicoNico and YouTube alike. Musicians covering the music gave birth to online collaboration between like minded musicians. As of today, more Vocaloids have released including the Kagamine Twins, Megurine Luka, and many many more.

I’m excited about Japanese culture and “gross national cool” because I have interests in Japanese film, fashion, and technology. I grew up on Miyazaki films, and one of my favorite films today is Departures (Okuribito) directed by Yôjirô Takita. I am curious about Japan’s emerging role in our global economy, its impact on our artistic world, and its environmental initiatives.

In taking Japan’s Gross National Cool this year, she hopes to expand on what she has learned on her own and at her time at William & Mary, and to come one step closer to “figuring out” the culture she loves so dearly.

This baseball driven journey through Japan finds something more foreign than angels in the outfield.

Traveling to Japan as the last of many stops throughout Asia, Time writer Pico Iyer visits everything from “American Spirit” stores to Zen temples, finding a land both entrancing and ominous.  Tension seems to be a hallmark of Iyer’s narrative:  between tradition and westernization, perfection and crudity, and between Japan and the U.S. Baseball becomes the lens through which Iyer ultimately views Japan, and his conclusions are more indicative of his own American unease than of Japan itself.

Video Night in Kathmandu And Other Reports From the Not-So-Far East by Pico Iyer 400pp Vintage $14.95

Beginning his travels in Tokyo, he quickly notes that the Japanese seem obsessed with American culture, but never seem to quite get it right or make it their own. Slipping early on into an Orientalist desire, he contrasts the ludicrous signs for “Jerry Beans” and “Gland Beef” with the elegance of kimono clad women and complains that in Japan’s tradition culture seems to have been cast off in favor of crude western imitation. To understand this, he decides to examine the Japanese appropriation of the most American of pastimes:  baseball.

Baseball is the most important and long developing example of the underlying point of Iyer’s narrative: that Japan is surpassing the U.S. Fear permeates his writing, leading him to view every Japanese courtesy with suspicion, and conclude that Japan may imitate the West and desire Western approval, but ultimately detests the West. Iyer sees Japan as taking Western ideas and perverting them, yet at the same time perfecting them. In baseball, Iyer sees a game robbed of its soul, where players are ground down to automatons and then built back up into winning machines. The mass cheers of the Hanshin Tigers’ supporters are not the exhortations of fans but rather the thunderous mass of Japan out to overtake America. Iyer implies that Japan threatens the very fabric of American tradition and what is more, the Japanese way is better, perfect. Iyer becomes obsessed with perfection as a part of the Japanese national character, extending all the way from Tokyo Disneyland to traditional Zen temples.

Iyer visits both Tokyo Disneyland and Kyoto Zen temples, finding in each different perfections. He marvels that Tokyo Disneyland creates the same perfect world as its U.S. counterpart, but that the people who fill it seem to blend into the perfection rather than (as Americans do) contrast with it. By contrast, he finds perfection in the quiet and peace of Zen gardens and temple paths, walking alone, and for no one but himself.  In the midst of writing laced with American anxieties the section devoted to these contrasting perfections is a welcome respite. It is a further testament to Iyer’s skill as a writer that he balances Disneyland and temples together, managing to avoid all but the slightest Orientalism. He appreciates the Zen gardens not as a part of a grand Romantic desire for the Orient, but for the peace they bring his mind, especially in light of the busy Disney. At the same time he does not hesitate to enjoy Tokyo Disneyland or remark that Disneyland is one of Japan’s most popular attractions for the Japanese themselves. Unfortunately, this otherwise balanced account ends once again with Iyer’s fear of Japan, as he notes that this perfectionism when applied incorrectly leads to horror.

Iyer concludes his narrative with an account of American gaijin (foreigners) playing in Japanese baseball. Mostly American major-leaguers past their prime, these men usually find great success in Japan, but quickly find themselves alienated. In Japan they made top statistics and top dollar, but did so in the grueling Japanese way. Iyer’s account of gaijin players not only reiterates his sentiment that Japan is dangerous, but figuratively shows his fears for America. Americans may not cease to be successful or rich, but they could be forced to achieve in the Japanese system. The Japanese way, as Iyer seems to draw it, is duplicitous and group minded:  always eager to show a best and beloved face to the world, while carving up and perfecting that world as it likes. Iyer’s writing is persuasive, and he is clearly both fascinated by, and terrified of, Japan. For him it is both familiar and foreign a threatening combination best exemplified by his final comment:  that in 1984 Olympics Japan took the Gold medal in baseball against America on American soil.

It is worth remembering that Pico Iyer visited Japan in 1987-88 and that his account was first published in 1989. Japan was a source of tremendous concern for the U.S. at that time and that clearly shows through in Iyer’s writing. Japan’s bubble economy had not yet burst, “Japan Inc.,” was at its peak, and the Japanese were buying up property throughout the U.S. and flooding America with their goods. The duplicity Iyer finds in Japanese courtesy and throughout Japan is disturbingly reminiscent of the old World War II era saying “You can never trust a Jap.” Paranoia over growing Japanese power, and the seeming impossibility of stopping it, colors Iyer’s entire work. As a result, the narrative is of tremendous use not as an account of Japan, but as a window into American anxiety over and perception of Japan at the end of the 1980s.

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When I was young, I was fascinated with cultures other than my own. I caught glimpses of China, of Russia, of Italy with every step I took. Little china dolls and pizza shops advertising authenticity seem to pervade every city, every town, every square mile of inhabited land in this melting pot called the United States. But what’s melted into this pot is no more than bits and pieces, generalizations and stereotypes. And when I realized this a few years ago, it ignited a desire in me to seek the truth of these cultures.

One, in particular, became the forefront of my obsession: Japan. Japan is a country often thought of and rarely understood (from my experience). As a child, I was enthralled with English dubs of Japanese anime and translated manga in bookstores. I loved their art, their values, their eccentricities, and most all, how foreign they were to my daily experience.

But as I researched more into this place called Japan, I also began to realize how misunderstood it really is in today’s culture. It’s generalized to the point where it becomes no more than a few meaningless words. It loses its real value more every day, every minute. And that saddens me. Because I find Japan one of the most fascinating places on Earth.

But I knew, that even within my own mental image that I’d conjured up from years of watching, reading, and searching, that my view of Japan was just as inadequate as the average person’s. I could witness no more than the average American, learn no more than the average child. And it humbled me to think that I was, in fact, one of the countless many who stereotype–without reprieve–the cultures that are foreign to them.

To dismiss my initial perceptions of Japan would be a mistake. I must build on them, transform them, and use them as an example of my own mistakes in relation to the misconceptions of others. So that’s exactly what I’m doing. I sit in class now, looking back at my old dirty slate of stereotypes and misconceptions and correcting those mistakes on a clean slate laid by its side. I seek to remedy my old delusion of Japan by replacing it with a more informed perception.

That, in effect, is why I’m here today taking Japanophilia.

I hoped this class would allow me to critically engage upon the misconceptions of Japanese culture that permeate so deeply our own, that cause us to solidify a false image of such a rich and wondrous culture. So far, it’s done just that. And I look forward to furthering the experience more.

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But, for a moment, allow me to take a lighter tone. Below is a simple biography of myself, first written in Japanese, and then translated (see Word Document beneath). It’s not quite as critical a look as I’ve already taken in the “depths of my soul”, but I think a little fun is in order here.

There are a few lists of my likes and dislikes that I’ve come across in everyday life, as a well as few random details about myself and my personal effects.

So, now you can relax, take a breath, and have a little laugh!

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{わたしのいえ}

(This is the view from the driveway of my house.)

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English | Japanese

Hi, everybody! My name’s Nich. I’m 18. I’m American. I’m a freshman at the College of William and Mary. My major is English (probably), but I also love Japanese and Art!

Favorite Foods

1.) Pizza

2.) Watermelon

3.) French Fries

4.) Pancakes

I read manga every week. I really like D. Gray Man (at the moment). However, I don’t really watch anime much. Japanese culture is very interesting (to me, of course). Samurai and kimonos and Tokyo and Japanese food…Ack! It’s so interesting!

Favorite Beverages

1.) Coca-Cola

2.) Doctor Pepper

3.) Ginger Ale

4.) Pepsi

Random Stuff: I have a bicycle. I wear glasses. I own a green hat. My hair is blond. I have (right now) four dictionaries (English, Japanese, Russian, and Chinese).

Favorite Colors

1.) Black

2.) White.

3.) Light Purple

4.) Blue

Oh…I’m finished! =D

I’m honored to meet all of you!

Reality check: Middle school – angst, puberty, first crush, friendships lost and found. Pokemon moved to the backseat as a hobby; no longer a lifestyle. Other passions emerged including art, baking, poetry, and mathematics. He had indeed become more learned as he matured. Success in school was easy. He could regurgitate facts to please his teachers. High school was another level to beat in the fickle game Nathan played. He realized that at this age, innocence gets tossed out the window like a cheating ex’s junk. Sexual awareness kicked in, clicks formed,  and the world turned against those who weren’t, heaven forbid, cool. Nathan cowered on the sidelines, ate lunch alone, and kept waiting for the 3 o’clock bell to ring. What did he truly appreciate of the immense world around him? He couldn’t even answer that. Was he happy? No.

Out of complete and utter boredom, he once took a Pokemon Personality Quiz. This was the result:

Evidently, something was wrong. How did a feverishly giddy child end up so lame? So normal. College was next. Hold up, what?! Nathan was pessimistic and apathetic. College is the land of freaks who want more of life. They seek understanding and don’t need approval to be content. Passion is the smell of the air. This was no place for someone who used up his childhood in a fantasy, and regarded everything else in vain seriousness. During the fall of 2009 after Nathan graduated, he boarded a plane and flew for 20 hours across the Pacific Ocean to a little island called New Zealand. He spent the next 2.5 months in an apartment with four strangers, and spent his days as a zoo volunteer. Where did this courage come from? It emerged from the necessity for Nathan to find clarity. Soul searching can begin at any age, and is a perpetual experiment. Nathan was introduced to fresh perspectives and he was able to interact with real-life Pokemon: the animals of the Wild Kingdom. When he returned home, his family could sense immense growth in him. He even wanted to do more and more. Next destination: Puerto Rico. Deep in the jungle he sweat out the two best weeks of his life. He aided in the research of indigenous frog, lizard, and tree species with a dynamic group of individuals. He loved it so much that he did the same thing in New York!

So you think Nathan is ready for anything? Not hardly. But now he can be one of those passionate kooks who goes to college and has the desire to be a part of something bigger than himself. All right, so what the hell does this have to do with anything? Some cheap way to give an inspirational pep talk? Nah. Expressionistic catharsis.

Nathan still plays Pokemon. Yet Nathan doesn’t know much about Japan. He knows that people are fascinated by its futurism and that it has created abstractions of empirical status such as anime, Hello Kitty, pop art, and Pokemon. He would love to know more. He has faced both relatable and unique circumstances thus far in his life. He is ready to soak up what he can. Japanophilia is new and exciting to Nathan, so bring it on!

They are out there!

]]> http://postbubbleculture.blogs.wm.edu/2010/09/22/nathan-traceski/feed/ 0 http://postbubbleculture.blogs.wm.edu/2010/09/14/gregory-ranzini/ http://postbubbleculture.blogs.wm.edu/2010/09/14/gregory-ranzini/#comments Tue, 14 Sep 2010 14:59:59 +0000 granzini http://postbubbleculture.blogs.wm.edu/?p=1455 Read More]]>

As a child, I largely missed out on the prominent expressions of Japanese soft power around me- rather than memorizing Pokemon or watching Dragonball Z, I spent the bulk of my time reading and absorbed in the invention of progressively more ill-advised rubber-band guns. When I was eleven my (normally pacifistic) mother, apparently in the throes of a temporary bout of insanity, enrolled me with Chikubu-kai Karate-do- a discipline as notable for its hundreds of years of documented lineage as for its casually brutal training regimen and ingrained disdain of ‘fighting fair’. Somewhat abruptly, Japan was squarely in my radar. With this priming, a chance encounter, two years later, with my high school’s extensive underground anime bootlegging network, and in particular a battered copy of the (in)famous 新世紀エヴァンゲリオン (Shin Seiki Evangelion), set off a fascination with anime that continues to this day. Evangelion, in turn, led me into an interest in narratively unconventional cinema, (Andrei Tarkovsky, Satoshi Kon, Shane Carruth, etc.,) one too many late night debates with my brother regarding the notoriously convoluted Serial Experiments Lain drew me towards literary criticism, and a recommendation from that same brother directed me to enroll into last semester’s seminar, Japanophilia. Having enjoyed myself even more than I expected, I decided to continue this interest this semester with Gross National Cool, and, perhaps, spin the topic off into a Monroe Project this coming summer.

During high school, my fascination skyrocketed to include anything and everything Japanese.  Academically, I applied for and was accepted to the 2008 Virginia Governor’s School Japanese Language Academy.  There, I learned the basics of Hiragana and Katakana, read numerous literary selections from renowned Japanese authors, and immersed myself in a cultural experience I will never forget.  I have studied the art of ancient and modern Japan through my AP Art History class.  I have visited multiple Japanese Gardens, exposed myself to new foods and customs, and participated in an authentic Matsuri.  Today, I am as passionate about the Japanese language and culture as ever before.  I watch many anime series, most notably: Naruto, Naruto Shippuuden, Bleach, One Piece, Death Note, Claymore, Mai-HiME, Rosario + Vampire, Rosario + Vampire Capu2, and Hunter x Hunter.  I also read such manga series as: Bleach, BoBoBo-Bo Bo-BoBo, Buso Renkin, Claymore, D. Gray-Man, Death Note, Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Drive, Fullmetal Alchemist, Gestalt, Gun Blaze West, Hikaru no Go, Hoshin Engi, Hunter x Hunter, MAR, Naruto, One Piece, The Prince of Tennis, Ral & Grad, Rosario + Vampire, Rosario + Vampire Season II, Shaman King, Slam Dunk, Togari, Ultimate Muscle, WaqWaq, Yu-Gi-Oh GX, Zatch Bell!, and Zombie Powder.

Right now, I am a first semester Freshman at The College of William & Mary.  I am currently enrolled in Japanese 101 with Kitamura Sensei and Japanophilia with Professor DiNitto.  I am planning on becoming a History major, with a focus in American history (an area which I am also deeply passionate about), and then advancing forward to Law School.  However, I want to work in International Law, specifically, doing work associated with Japan.  Someday, I wish to travel to Japan and experience, first-hand, its culture, landscape, and people.

Thank you for taking the time to read about me and my passion for Japan!  I thought I would leave you with my eleven favorite Japanese songs.  I hope they give you the same peace of mind they give me:

1.“Wind” = Akeboshi  2. “Soba ni Iru Kara” = Amadori 3. “Yura Yura” = Hearts Grow 4. “Blue Bird” = Ikimonogakari 5. “Closer” = Inoue Joe 6. “Kanashimi wo Yasashisa ni” = little by little 7. “Change” = Miwa 8. “Seishun Kyousoukyoku” = Sambomaster 9. “My Answer” = Seamo 10. “Utakata Hanabi” = Supercell 11. “D-tecnolife” = UVERworld 

どうぞよろしくおねがいします。

Although I definitely did not realize then, my first encounter with Japanese anything was Hello Kitty; I remember being in elementary school and owning random items such as erasers and rubbery pencils bedecked with the iconic, oddly ambiguous face of Sanrio’s marketing giant. Like many members of my generation, I later became entranced with Japanese entertainment through contact with anime and manga (the addicting gateway drugs to Japanese culture) like InuYasha, Fruits Basket, Ouran High School Host Club, Fullmetal Alchemist and many others. This developed into an interest in Japanese music and films.

My repeated (though relatively limited) exposure to these various forms of media eventually led me to research different facets of the Japanese culture. My knowledge of this fascinating society is still fairly narrow, so when I spotted a course titled “Japanophilia” during registration I signed up immediately. I hope this course will help me broaden my awareness of the many unique aspects of Japan.

 My Pokemon Journey, Part 1

It’s actually Chris Shea, for the record, and pop culture in general has always played a larger role in my life than my parents would have liked. However, I’ve only recently taken a look back to find that it wasn’t just America responsible for my brain-rotting hours of television and video games. Pokémon, Godzilla, Mario, Hole in the Wall, and even Sailor Moon were just a few of my unintended early encounters with Japan.

 <- My Idol, Age 8

Now a freshman and possible Chemistry major at W&M, I enjoy playing cello, badminton, and being an “asianophile” in general

I was first exposed to Japanese culture through different anime that were shown on TV while I was growing up (Toonami!). Both of my older brothers really liked to watch anime and I would sit down on the couch with them and watch shows like Dragon Ball Z, Gundam Wing, and Outlaw Star. They never let me watch Sailor Moon (to this day I have never watched it).  I feel like there hasn’t really been a point in my life where I haven’t been watching an anime or reading a manga.

Anime had not only affected the the TV I watched but, my art as well. In 5^th grade I started to learn to draw in an anime/manga style. Over the years I had to move on from drawing in an anime style in order to build a better portfolio for myself as an artist but, even today, almost everything I doodle is in anime style. Japanese culture in general though has had an influence on some of the other art that I do outside of my doodles, such as a painting I made of a Geisha.

Anime is what really sucked me into the Japanese culture. I really wanted to learn to speak and understand the Japanese language that I heard in every show I watched or Japanese song I had listened too. As I started learning more about the language I began to want to learn and understand more about the Japanese culture and not limit my knowledge to what I had learned from anime.

I feel so lucky that in 2009 I got to attend Virginia Governor’s School Japanese Language Academy for three weeks. Not only did I get to learn more of the language but I also learned so much about Japanese culture, history, customs, food, traditions, literature, film, and even social problems. It was so intense to have so much information thrown at me in such a short period of time but, I loved every minute of learning it.

I’m pleased to say that my knowledge of the language and culture has grown over the years but I know there is so much more that I need to learn. I still like watching anime, I like reading manga every week, and yes I like going to cons and dressing up in dorky costumes for a weekend but, I really want to be more than that. I want to be an informed and educated person on the Japanese culture and lifestyle and not have a limited view through the narrow lens of anime. I’m really hoping that Japanophilia will help me grow in such a way.

Cosplays I’ve done.

I like to cook Japanese food with my friends too. We made this once. It was super yummy.

Click here to view the embedded video.

My reason for enrolling Japanophilia is probably a little different from most of the other students. I took this class not only because I am interested in Japanese culture, but also because that I want to give up the prejudice I used to have against Japan and learn about it more objectively.

 Having spent my childhood in northeast China where the Mukden Incident took place, I have heard many stories about the cruel invasion of the Japanese soldiers and the damages they have done to my city. Even my middle school history teacher emphasized on the Japanese slaughter and the tragic stories that happened to the Chinese victims. All of these, which led to my dislike of Japan as a young child despite the fact that I watched sailormoon almost every day after school and always dreamed to have a robotic cat like Doraemon.

After spending my high school years in the States and meeting people from all over the world, my attitudes towards many things have changed, including my dislike of Japan. I have gradually learned to appreciate and respect the Japanese culture and the more I learned about it, the more fascinated I became with it. From the Japanese TV shows, movies, pop music to the Japanese products Sony, Casio and even the delicious Japanese food Sushi, I’m turning into a big fan of Japan. Now I just wish to learn more about its development in the previous centuries and I am really glad to take Japanophilia as my freshman seminar class:)

I do not consider myself to be a traditional “Japanophile” by any means. Though I, like any Elementary School kid worth his salt from the late 90′s and early 00′s, was of course obsessed with Pokemon for a time, I do not have any pressing interest in any Japanese area of culture at the present. Rather, I am more curious as to how Japan was able to, so seamlessly, Americanize itself while Japanizing the West. We seem to have cultivated a mutually beneficial cultural relationship that has taken a firm foothold in each nation and stayed relevant for a half-century or longer.

I feel that through this intensive study of Japanese history and interaction with the West, I’ll better be able to understand the evolution of Japan beyond the lacking historical attention it is afforded. While ignorance may be expected or even encouraged of me as an American, I feel that it is my duty to combat this stereotype and better understand the world around me.

                       Hi, my name is Dianna Balint and I am a freshman majoring in undeclared with a double minor in exploration and discovery (Meaning I have no idea what I want to do). My interest in Japanese culture began at the tender age of six when my brother turned on the TV before school one morning and we discovered a strange show with a boy, a yellow mouse-thing, and a caterpillar thing. We quickly learned that these animal things were called “Pokémon” and the rest is history. I became fascinated by the TV shows (Pokemon, Digimon, Sailor Moon), the video games (All hail Nintendo), and most importantly THE FOOD. When my family moved to Williamsburg we discovered Kyoto Restaurant (On Richmond Road, check it out). I was enchanted by the Koi Pond, enthralled by the fans, screens, and lucky cats that decorated the place, envious of the hostesses wearing beautiful kimono, and most of all in love with the food. Tuna rolls, soba noodles, green tea ice cream (ok maybe not the green tea ice cream but Mr. Ken, the sushi chef, told me it was Wasabi ice cream and since then I been wary of eating it), the list goes on and on. From then on I knew I wanted to study this culture that could create such wonderful food. My dream is to one day visit Japan to study the culture, eat the food, and maybe find a way to create a real Vulpix.

These days, I thrive mostly on doujinshi, Vocaloid, and indie games, most of which are inspired by innovations created or made famous by the Japanese.  I think it’s really amazing how a fandom can grow to the extent that it eclipses the actual thing that it’s based off of; these days, Touhou doujins draw more from other Touhou doujins than they do from Touhou itself.

Pictured: Touhou. Not Pictured: Sappy shoujo-ai seen in every other Touhou doujin.

Interestingly enough, I was inspired to become an artist because of anime. About six years ago, I set up an online account on deviantART, an art sharing website, with learning how to draw anime in mind. From there, I grew to understand and appreciate all different sorts of artwork; I began to explore traditional Japanese artwork along the way, too. Before I graduated high school, I wrote a 20 page “Extended Essay” about anime, emakimono, and sumi-e art styles.

I intend to study abroad in Japan in either my Sophomore or Junior year. I don’t know quite yet whether I will be staying for a semester or a year, but I know I will enjoy it regardless!

I hope you enjoy all the website has to offer!

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When I was young, I was fascinated with cultures other than my own. I caught glimpses of China, of Russia, of Italy with every step I took. Little china dolls and pizza shops advertising authenticity seem to pervade every city, every town, every square mile of inhabited land in this melting pot called the United States. But what’s melted into this pot is no more than bits and pieces, generalizations and stereotypes. And when I realized this a few years ago, it ignited a desire in me to seek the truth of these cultures.

One, in particular, became the forefront of my obsession: Japan. Japan is a country often thought of and rarely understood (from my experience). As a child, I was enthralled with English dubs of Japanese anime and translated manga in bookstores. I loved their art, their values, their eccentricities, and most all, how foreign they were to my daily experience.

But as I researched more into this place called Japan, I also began to realize how misunderstood it really is in today’s culture. It’s generalized to the point where it becomes no more than a few meaningless words. It loses its real value more every day, every minute. And that saddens me. Because I find Japan one of the most fascinating places on Earth.

But I knew, that even within my own mental image that I’d conjured up from years of watching, reading, and searching, that my view of Japan was just as inadequate as the average person’s. I could witness no more than the average American, learn no more than the average child. And it humbled me to think that I was, in fact, one of the countless many who stereotype–without reprieve–the cultures that are foreign to them.

To dismiss my initial perceptions of Japan would be a mistake. I must build on them, transform them, and use them as an example of my own mistakes in relation to the misconceptions of others. So that’s exactly what I’m doing. I sit in class now, looking back at my old dirty slate of stereotypes and misconceptions and correcting those mistakes on a clean slate laid by its side. I seek to remedy my old delusion of Japan by replacing it with a more informed perception.

That, in effect, is why I’m here today taking Japanophilia.

I hoped this class would allow me to critically engage upon the misconceptions of Japanese culture that permeate so deeply our own, that cause us to solidify a false image of such a rich and wondrous culture. So far, it’s done just that. And I look forward to furthering the experience more.

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But, for a moment, allow me to take a lighter tone. Below is a simple biography of myself, first written in Japanese, and then translated. It’s not quite as critical a look as I’ve already taken in the “depths of my soul”, but I think a little fun is in order here.

There are a few lists of my likes and dislikes that I’ve come across in everyday life, as a well as few random details about myself and my personal effects.

So, now you can relax, take a breath, and have a little laugh!

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

{わたしのいえ}

(This is the view from the driveway of my house.)

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English | Japanese

こんにちは、みんなさん！わたしのなまえはニックです！じゅうはっさいです。アメリカじんです。ウィッリアムアンドメアルーだいがくのがくせいです！せんもんはえいごです（けだし）、でも、にほんごとげいじゅつがだいすきです！

すきなたべもの

１。）ピザ

２。）スイカ

３。）フライドポテト

４。）ホットケーキ!

まいしゅうまんがをよみます！ヂーグレイマンまんががだいすきです （いま）。でも、めったにあにめをみません。にほんのぶんかはとてもおもしろいです！さむらいときものととうきょうとにほんのたべものと。。。ああ！とてもおもしろい！

すきなのみもの

１。）コカコーラ

２。）ドクターペーパ

３。）ジンジャーエール

４。）ペプシ

ランダム：じてんしゃがあります。めがねをかけます。みどりのぼうしをあります。わたしのかみはブロンドです。（いま）じしょがよんさつあります（えいご、にほんご、ロシアご、ちゅうごくご）。

すきないろ

１。）くろ

２。）しろ

３。）ふじいろ

４。）あお

ああ。。。おわりました！=D

どうぞよろしくおねがいします！

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

{わたしのねこ}

(My Cat)

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(PS: I’m very excited to be at William and Mary. All my professors seem like amazing people (thus far =P). I’ve made some awesome new friends in my first few weeks, and I sincerely hope the trend continues. I already can’t wait for second semester classes! After I pass all my first semester ones, of course. Anyway, it’s great to be here; the William and Mary community is amazing!)

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

{Random Links}

My Blog

My Facebook Page

Greetings and Salutations! I’m Victoria Witt and I hail from Richmond, VA. I am a Freshman at William and Mary and I plan on being a Psychology major. I first became introduced to Japanese culture at a young age when I became obsessed with Sailor Moon and Pokemon, similar to many of my peers. I was then drawn into manga and my sister and I would illustrate our own stories. As I grew older, I was fascinated with Japanese films such as and not limited many Miyazaki movies (Princess Mononoke being my personal favorite), Battle Royale, Suicide Club, and many others.

I saw the opera Madame Butterfly with my sister a few years ago, and this also sparked my interest in Japanese culture. Japanese cuisine is delicious as well. Although I didn’t learn too much in high school, which is one of the reasons I wanted to take Japanophila, I was interested in Japan’s history of isolation and uniqueness.

マックス二クールカン

Reality check: Middle school – angst, puberty, first crush, friendships lost and found. Pokemon moved to the backseat as a hobby; no longer a lifestyle. Other passions emerged including art, baking, poetry, and mathematics. He had indeed become more learned as he matured. Success in school was easy. He could regurgitate facts to please his teachers. High school was another level to beat in the fickle game Nathan played. He realized that at this age, innocence gets tossed out the window like a cheating ex’s junk. Sexual awareness kicked in, clicks formed, and the world turned against those who weren’t, heaven forbid, cool. Nathan cowered on the sidelines, ate lunch alone, and kept waiting for the 3 o’clock bell to ring. What did he truly appreciate of the immense world around him? He couldn’t even answer that. Was he happy? No.

Out of complete and utter boredom, he once took a Pokemon Personality Quiz. This was the result:

Evidently, something was wrong. How did a feverishly giddy child end up so lame? So normal. College was next. Hold up, what?! Nathan was pessimistic and apathetic. College is the land of freaks who want more of life. They seek understanding and don’t need approval to be content. Passion is the smell of the air. This was no place for someone who used up his childhood in a fantasy, and regarded everything else in vain seriousness. During the fall of 2009 after Nathan graduated, he boarded a plane and flew for 20 hours across the Pacific Ocean to a little island called New Zealand. He spent the next 2.5 months in an apartment with four strangers, and spent his days as a zoo volunteer. Where did this courage come from? It emerged from the necessity for Nathan to find clarity. Soul searching can begin at any age, and is a perpetual experiment. Nathan was introduced to fresh perspectives and he was able to interact with real-life Pokemon: the animals of the Wild Kingdom. When he returned home, his family could sense immense growth in him. He even wanted to do more and more. Next destination: Puerto Rico. Deep in the jungle he sweat out the two best weeks of his life. He aided in the research of indigenous frog, lizard, and tree species with a dynamic group of individuals. He loved it so much that he did the same thing in New York!

So you think Nathan is ready for anything? Not hardly. But now he can be one of those passionate kooks who goes to college and has the desire to be a part of something bigger than himself. All right, so what the hell does this have to do with anything? Some cheap way to give an inspirational pep talk? Nah. Expressionistic catharsis.

Nathan still plays Pokemon. Yet Nathan doesn’t know much about Japan. He knows that people are fascinated by its futurism and that it has created abstractions of empirical status such as anime, Hello Kitty, pop art, and Pokemon. He would love to know more. He has faced both relatable and unique circumstances thus far in his life. He is ready to soak up what he can. Japanophilia is new and exciting to Nathan, so bring it on!

Squirreltle omnoms Pokeballs.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Cuteness of J-pop

As discussed in the class, ‘cuteness’ is an important factor of ‘Japan’s Gross National Cool.’  For instance, one main reason of the popularity of Hello Kitty in the foreign countries is its ‘cuteness.’  There is a characteristic of cuteness of Hello Kitty.  The place where the eyes and nose are is the same as human babies.  When girls see Hello Kitty’s face, their mother instinct is stimulated and they cannot help loving it.

This can be applied to J-pop.  Taking Arashi as an example, people notice they are not manly.  They sing in a girly voice, and their faces and makeup bear ‘cuteness.’  Other singer groups of Johnny & Associates, Inc consist of many singers who have feminine qualities; KAT-TUN, Hey! Say! Jump, Kanjani Eight, and NYC boys, for instance.  Members of these groups tend to be very young, and all have sweet voices and cute faces.  The average age of the members of NYC boys is 16.  These ‘cuteness’ factors seem to stimulate the mother instinct, the same as Hello Kitty does.  Other female singers or singer groups bear ‘cuteness,’ too. The singer Ai Otsuka, for example, sings in a cute voice, and her promotion videos are girly. AKB48, a group consisting of approximately 48 girls, is popular because they do not look professional and their ‘look’ is accessible to everyone.  Indeed, the ideology behind this group could be described as ‘cute girls in my neighborhood’.

Click here to view the embedded video.

‘会いたかった（Aitakatta）’AKB48

Click here to view the embedded video.

‘さくらんぼ（Sakuranbo）’ Ai Otsuka

What is common between Hello Kitty and J-pop group is that their ‘cuteness’ is something that stimulates people’s mother instinct.  Both Hello Kitty and those idol groups above look innocent and immature.  People feel the need to protect them.

Also, young girls love Hello Kitty because they have a desire to stay immature.  So they want to possess cute things like Hello Kitty.  This can be applied to J-pop.  By listen to the songs which bear ‘cuteness’, they can feel they are still young, cute and innocent.

As Disney is turning happiness into commodity, many J-pop singers or groups are turning ‘cuteness’ into commodity.  People cannot buy ‘cuteness,’ but they can buy their CDs and DVDs, and they consequently buy ‘cuteness.’  Also, as mentioned in the class that ‘people who have bought Prius cars look earth-friendly,’ people can show themselves as cute by possessing cute things.  In the same logic, people can show themselves as cute by listening to cute J-pop songs and sing them at karaoke boxes.

I have considered ‘cuteness’ of J-pop so far.  However, the popularity of J-pop differs between Asian countries and America.  That seems to be partly because what kind of things consumers want differs according to their cultures.  In general, Asian people tend to like cute things; on the other hand, American people tend to like cool things rather than cute things.  That is probably one of the reason why J-pop is popular in Asia but not in the United States.  However, there are more reasons why J-pop is popular in Asia.  I would like to take Singapore as an example, because it is one of the biggest J-pop markets in Asia.  According to Ng, author of Japanese Popular Music in Singapore and the Hybridization of Asian Music, the sales of Japanese recordings have increased by more than ten times from 1999 to 2002 in Singapore.  This shows that J-pop is becoming more and more popular in Singapore.

History of J-pop in Singapore

The Late 19th

Japanese popular music has a pretty long history in Singapore.  According to Ng, it was introduced to Singapore in the late 19^th century following the influx of Japanese karayukisan (Japanese prostitutes) and traders, but it was only performed in “Little Japan” and was not popular among the locals.

During the Occupation

During the Japanese occupation (1942-1945), Japanese songs, such as the national anthem, military songs, and traditional folk songs, became popular in Singapore and Southeast Asia, and were actively used by the Japanese for political purposes.

The 1970s

In the 1970s, Taiwanese songs, which were mostly covers of Japanese enka (urban nostalgic and emotive songs) or kayoukyoku (early Japanese pop), were popular among Chinese community in Asia.  Chinese Singaporeans became familiar with Japanese tunes, although they few realized that their favorite Mandarin songs borrowed from Japanese tunes.  They had little opportunity to listen to original Japanese songs until the early 1980s.

The Early 1980s

After the war, it was not until the early 1980s that Japanese popular music was formally introduced to Singapore.  The first Japanese song to become a hit in Singapore and Southeast Asia was Sakamoto Kyu’s “Sukiyaki” (originally titled “Ue o muite arukou,” “I will walk with my head up”), came indirectly from the United States.  In 1981, as a part of screening of Japanese drama on the Chinese television station, Chinese Singaporeans (who constituted more than 70% of the nation’s population) listened to the theme songs of these dramas.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The Mid-1980s

Following the first J-pop boom in Hong Kong and Taiwan, Japanese music record, both licenced and pirated were imported to Southeast Asia in large quantities.  Also, thanks to the popularity of Yamaguchi Momoe’s dramas and movies, Yamaguchi became an icon among young Chinese Singaporeans.  In the 1980s, Singapore television showed the Japanese Red and White Singing Contest (Kouhaku), the annual music event in Japan to celebrate the New Year.  Japanese singers such as Yamaguchi Momoe, Matsuda Seiko, Nakamori Akina, Shounentai, Checkers became popular, marked for their image more than their music.

Decline and Rise in the 1990s

However, the popularity of Japanese popular music in Singapore did not last long, because of the decline of popular music and television dramas in Japan in the late 1980s.  In the early 1990s, the only Japanese song that made a commotion in Singapore was Say Yes (by Chage & Aska).  When the music industry in Japan revived in the mid-1990s, Asian nations (Taiwan, Hong Kong and Singapore) once again saw a rise in the popularity of Japanese popular music.  In March 1999, Speed became the first Japanese singer/group whose album made it to the top ten in the Singapore chart.  Since then, Japanese albums have become regular entries in the Singapore charts.

Click here to view the embedded video.

As the history shows, the recent popularity of J-pop in Singapore is based on the relatively long history of Japanese popular music there.  Besides the history, what are the reasons for the J-pop popularity?

Piracy

Ironically, piracy has played an important role in the population of J-pop in Singapore and Asia.  Taiwan, Malaysia, Thailand and China make pirated J-pop CDs and VCDs for the Asian market.  Taiwan, the largest producer of J-pop music albums and marchandise in the world, has not signed any agreement with Japan on copyrights protection.

Chinese Cover Version

A large number of Chinese (Mandarin and Cantonese) cover versions of J-pop songs made by Taiwanese and Hong Kong artists also help popularize J-pop in Chinese communities in Asia.  It is cheaper and easier for Taiwanese and Hong Kong artists to buy the copyrights of Japanese songs than to write their own.  Chage & Aska, Nakajima Miyuki and Southern All Stars have Chinese cover versions.

Mass Media

The mass media and communication industry are the main forces behind the J-pop boom.  Singapore TV began to show more Japanese dramas after 1995.  From 1995 to 2001, on avarage, more than 10 Japanese dramas were screened on Singapore television a year.  Soundtracks of Japanese drama usually sell well.

Here are other reasons that Ng thinks the reasons Singapore audience tend to enjoy J-pop.  First, they find Japanese icons to appear charming. Second, J-pop provides a viable alternative to American pop or Chinese pop.  J-pop has many varieties, including Euro-beat, R & B, rap, soft rock, hip-hop, etc.  The sound quality is superb and the packaging is attractive.  Titles are usually in English.  Third, there are more than 10 thousand Singaporeans learning Japanese.

Conclusion

The recent popularity of J-pop is based on many factors, including history, Japanese drama and anime, piracy, Chinese cover versions and mass media. I think the biggest factor is ‘cuteness.’  Asian people like ‘cute’ things and they act like immature cute girls; whereas American people like ‘cool’ things and act in a cool way.  Many American musicians regard sex,drug and alcohol as cool and they use those words in their lyrics very frequently, which is far from ‘cuteness.’  So what Asian and American people pursue in culture seems different. This would be a reason why American people are not very attracted by Japanese ‘cute’ pop musicians, although they have a high popularity in Asian countries.

Discussion Questions

1. Why J-pop is not so popular in the United States while it is popular in Asian countries?

2.Why do you think “Sukiyaki” made a great hit in the world?

Sources

Ng, Benjamin Wai-ming.” Japanese Popular Music in Singapore and the Hybridization of Asian Music.” Asian Music, Vol. 34, No. 1 (Autumn, 2002 – Winter, 2003), pp. 1-18.JSTOR.Web.23 Apr. 2010.

“Karayukisan no kobeya.” Web. 23 Apr. 2010.<http://www.karayukisan.jp/no9/index.html>

Entry contributed by Sanami Takasaki

Radio changed American society in a huge way, and not too long ago our grandparents grew up listening to news, weather, and entertainment programs around the radio. They thought of radio the same way we view TV. This quotation from the newsletter Interadio expresses the importance of the radio:

“More than any other mass communication medium, radio is accessible, affordable, and easily appropriated by groups of people whose demands have traditionally been ignored by the mainstream media. Many marginalized groups are turning to community radio as a forum for expression…” [1]

For our generation, video fills this same role. Think of the ways we use video in our everyday life: Youtube, Facebook, movies, the list goes on. Even Google has a specific video search option. But how has video changed music, more specifically, how have music videos changed the music industry in both Japan and the United States?

Video, in conjunction with the internet, has introduced new possibilities for both Japanese and American artists. We have seen one example of crossover between two different forms in the Murakami animated Kanye “Good Morning” music video. Another celebrity crossover would be Kirsten Dunst’s appearance as a cosplay character in yet another Murakami video, Akihabara Majokko Princess. The video was filmed in Japan, but features a 1980s hit by the Vapors, “Turning Japanese”.

Click here to view the embedded video.

“Artists, particularly in the west but also in developing countries, have gravitated to video in part because of its low cost and also because the medium encourages experimentation with images.”[2]

How have Japanese artists experimented with images in video? Sakanaction, a unique Japanese band, has created some stellar music videos. Their first video to capture the attention of critics was Native Dancer, and the music video does a great job with lighting throughout the four minutes. One of the coolest parts appears during the chorus of the song, and features one of the band members dancing wearing a pair of Nikes. This attire is another example of the impact of America on Japan- this Japanese group’s music video is inadvertently advertising for an American brand.

It is difficult to categorize Sakanaction as a specific genre because they have taken bits and pieces of so many kinds of music. The group did not set out to be mainstream, but wanted to bridge the gap between the major scene and the underground. The band name “fish” + action, was something band member Ichiro Yamaguchi created to describe his vision: “I’m influenced by freshwater fish. They live in cold water, sometimes underneath the rocks, and they continue swimming against a strong current. I would like to live like them; always swimming against the flow.”[3] The group strives to consistently reinvent their sound, pushing their limits and staying true to a unique sound. In the same way, their videos are unique and unlike many mainstream American artists’ work.

Native dancer:

Click here to view the embedded video.

This is important because music videos are designed to sell not only a song or CD, but the artist. A music video must be “densely textured so it can hold up over repeated viewings. It has to be edgy enough to be noticed, but palatable enough to satisfy the often divergent demands of the performer, the record company, and the public.”[4]

It is evident that although Sakanaction may not be topping the charts yet in Japan, they are gaining popularity. They have now released 4 albums since their formation only a few years ago in 2005. Each album has had specific unique characteristics. The newest compilation, “kikUUiki”, is “closer to Yamaguchi’s vision of blending roots and robotics. The tracks are built from delicately crafted synths and heavily treated electric guitars.” [5] Sakanaction also follows a rule that none of their songs are simple enough to be sung with just one acoustic guitar. The group is not only growing a domestic following, but the internet has allowed Sakanaction to spread onto the PC’s and iPods of many who may not even understand their lyrics. One fan even concocted a mash-up of Outcast and Sakanaction.

For their 5^th album, the group may venture yet again into new waters and attempt an English album, an ambitious goal. Some Japanese bands have not been able to make this crossover because of changes in their music but Sakanaction presents such a devotion to their art, and focus less on popularity. If this group can find success not only in Japan but in the United States and other western countries, they will certainly be in a league of their own.

What impact has video had on the music industry?

Do you think that video has made it possible for some groups to become popular who may not have made is as far with only their music?

How would an English record change Sakanaction?

Sources:

Reiss, Steve, and Neil Feineman. Thirty Frames per Second: the Visionary Art of the Music Video. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 2000.

Renov, Michael, and Erika Suderburg, eds. Resolutions: Contemporary Video Practices. Minneapolis, Minn.: University of Minnesota, 1996.

http://www.shift.jp.org/en/archives/2008/01/sakanaction.html

http://community.livejournal.com/aramatheydidnt/707524.html

[1] Renov, Michael, and Erika Suderburg, eds. Resolutions: Contemporary Video Practices. Minneapolis, Minn.: University of Minnesota, 1996. Page 287

[2] Renov, Michael, and Erika Suderburg, eds. Resolutions: Contemporary Video Practices. Minneapolis, Minn.: University of Minnesota, 1996. Page 286

[3] http://community.livejournal.com/aramatheydidnt/707524.html

[4] Reiss, Steve, and Neil Feineman. Thirty Frames per Second: the Visionary Art of the Music Video. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 2000. Page 11

[5] http://community.livejournal.com/aramatheydidnt/707524.html

Entry contributed by Ally McKechnie

パフューム

“Common Music”

Japanese are known for being group-oriented—this is not a secret.  Thus, the basis for many of their actions is less what they themselves want to do and more what the group wants them to do.  While many people still do have their own tastes in music, they only share these tastes with certain people, if they share them at all.  This is where the idea of “common music,” as Koizumi dubs it, comes in.  She defines “common music” as any song that “everyone can sing together,” especially ones with “a cheerful character both in its words and music,” (Koizumi 113).

Japanese youth are especially reliant on “common music” to blend in.  When they sing karaoke, for example, they are most likely to pick songs that everyone knows.  This way, they can both fit in and keep others from feeling left out. One popular example of “common music” is SMAP’s 世界に一つだけの花 (Sekai Ni Hitotsu Dake No Hana)

Roughly translated, the lyrics to the chorus are:

Yes, each of us is

A flower there’s only one of in the whole world

Each of us has their own seeds

So let’s just do our best

To make them grow into flowers

Click here to view the embedded video.

This song epitomizes “common music.”  It is happy in nature, the melody is simple and catchy, and it is by a popular artist that everyone is sure to know.  You can look at all the latest hits here.

Johnny’s and Idols

SMAP was produced by Johnny & Associates, a male talent agency that trains male idols.  It is known in Japan as ジャニーズ, or Johnny’s.  They are also responsible for producing Arashi, KAT-TUN, and NYC.  Groups like these are made up cutesy ultra-chic (if not girly) men that, more often than not, posses no real singing ability.   Because they cannot actually sing, a lot of the success of the groups is based upon how attractive they are, along with how their catchy their songs are and how these songs are received by the general public.  The most recent Johnny’s group to be at the top of the charts is NYC Boys.  Here is their song, 100% Yuuki, which was recently number one on the J-Pop charts.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Girl groups are popular as well.  The same qualities that make boy bands popular (looks, familiarity, accessibility, etc.) make successful female J-Pop groups.  One of the most famous girl groups is パフューム (Perfume) .   Known for their techno-influenced beats and poppy hooks, Perfume has dominated the charts recently.  The chorus of their latest hit, “Natural Ni Koi Shite,” can be translated:

Be in love naturally

Kiss me naturally

Love naturally; I want to hold hands like this

Be in love naturally,

Be arm in arm together naturally

Love naturally; nonchalant feelings are the most genuine

Click here to view the embedded video.

A lot of J-Pop songs have almost no lyrical value.  In “Natural Ni Koi Shite,” there are no deep meanings, the song was most likely written with no inspiration, and it sounds like every other song the group sings. This is precisely why it is popular.   People know Perfume, and they know what to expect.  They can hear one song and immediately know what the rest of their songs will sound like.  There is even a catchy dance that they can learn with their friends.  All these factors make it perfect “common music.”

Entry contributed by Adam Labriny

Greetings!

This faceless, WordPress-decapitated guy is Andy Henderson — a senior English and Literary & Cultural Studies double major. He enters this class wearing my LCST hat, and began this semester with nearly blank slate with respect to Japanese culture.

The material thus far has been fascinating. We live in a small world, and culture in one place can quickly take hold elsewhere.  When this happens, the cultural expressions themselves rarely tell the whole story; a vast nexus of interrelated political and economic ties and influences are necessary to support any cultural exchange. For an LCST major who is used to looking at cultural texts within US borders, it has been great to change perspective for him a little bit and focus on the relationships between Japan and the US.

And then of course there’s Yatta! That’s the other reason he’s here.

The Story of Spirited Away

Spirited Away was a wild domestic success by any metric. Released in Japan in July of 2001 to a remarkably positive reception, by 2002 a sixth of the Japanese population had seen the film. A favorite among parents and children alike, it went on to gross approximately $250 million in Japan, b

reaking the domestic box office record snagged from Miyazaki in 1997 by Titanic and making that fabled director the country’s most successful to date by the numbers.[i] Many attributed the success to the admittedly exaggerated rumors of Miyazaki’s immanent retirement.

Not just a popular blockbuster, Spirited Away also went on to garner international critical acclaim. Rotten Tomatoes gives the film a score of 96%, and among the site’s “Top Critics,” the score is 100%.

It is also well decorated with many international awards from film festivals and critical organizations. Among its most notable awards are the

Best Picture from Japan’s Academy Awards, a Golden Bear – Berlin International Film Festival’s all-around top

prize – and the second Oscar ever awarded for Best Animated Feature. That Oscar made Spirited Away the first anime film to win an American Academy Award and it is still the only non-English speaking animation film to do so.

In September of 2002, Disney finally released a dubbed – and otherwise uncut – version of the film in the US. At this point, Spirited Away was the first film ever to make $200 million before being released in US theaters. Under the personal supervision of Pixar’s John Lasseter, who directed Toy Story and has since produced almost all of Pixar’s biggest hits, there was some hope that Spirited Away might take off in the states.

Those hopes were dashed. Disney opened the film in about 100 theaters, most of which were art houses. By comparison, most first-tier Disney films will open in 3000+ theaters. Initially hopeful sales quickly weakened, and the film never caught on. While the surprise Oscar nod provided the opportunity of a medium-scale, 700-theater distribution, people did not turn out. Ultimately the film only grossed a disappointing $10 million in the US despite a long run of about a full year. [ii]

Anime in the US

That Spirited Away was not selling was not because Americans were not buying anime (Or manga., as Charles investigated). During the same year Spirited Away came to the US,” royalties and merchandising from Japanese anime in America reached a record $4.35 billion, three times greater than Japan’s steel exports to the United States.”[iii] Similarly, around 40% of the Cartoon Network’s programming was at that point Japanese anime or anime inspired. And people were watching this material: “Cartoon Network’s late night Adult Swim segment, which heavily features Japanese anime is [in 2004] the most watched cable block in its time slot for men between 18-34, beating out Jon Stewart’s Daily Show, the Tonight Show, and Late Show with David Letterman.”

This year had been the peak of a recent upsurge in American interest in anime. In 2003, two anime shows had made their way on to the list of top ten children’s programming, according to the Neilson Ratings. A decade before, no anime shows were or had been on that list, and since anime has often remained present on it. [iv] [v]

Even so, anime generally has carved out little ground at the box office. According to Boxofficemojo.com, the Pokemon franchise alone is responsible for about two-thirds of the total gross revenues from anime films in the US at the box office. All anime films that have ever been shown in the US combined grossed the remaining figure – about $70 million, a typical return for any single Hollywood film. Miyazaki’s previous mega-hit in Japan and mega-flop domestically, Princess Mononoke, still retains a spot on the all-time top-ten of anime list, even with its disappointing $2 million return. So what’s going on here?

“Stepchild Syndrome”

In a piece for the San Fransisco Chronicle, G. Allen Johnson argues that Hollywood itself is responsible for the failure of Asian films – and not just anime – in America. “They seemingly don’t know what to do with the Asian films they buy,” he writes.[vi]

He argues that American distributors who pick up the rights to Asian films have not yet figured out how to effectively get them into the American marketplace. Past failures, like Princess Mononoke that had an expensive cast of A-list voice actors for its dubbing and still came up short, keep studios wary about taking risks. As a result, distributors often open the films with little or no effective advertizing strategy, which results in US flops of major Asian hits.

Spirited Away, as a case study, suggests this argument does indeed tell part of the story. While anime powerhouses like Studio Ghibili are very adept at making movies, they do not have the international marketing or distribution muscle available to organizations like Disney. In 1996, Tokuma, Ghibli’s parent company, signed a historic distribution deal with Miyazaki that would have tremendous effects on the possibilities of anime blockbusters in the US in the coming decades. This arrangement was called the Disney-Tokuma deal, or just “D-T.”

When looking for a distributor, the renowned and respected Miyazaki was in a seller’s market and in a position to make demands. After a bad experience in which a worldwide distributor changed one of his films in a way he did not approve of, Miyazaki insisted on preserving unchanged the visual and musical elements of his films abroad. Distributors would have the option to add subtitles or dub the films. Additionally, Miyazaki, who generally is seen as somewhat anti-commercial or somehow above commerce, would not concede merchandizing rights, likely in an attempt to keep his images from winding up on backpacks, action figures and in spin-off television shows. Disney was the only company that would agree to these provisions. In exchange, they requested the extremely lucrative domestic distribution rights to Studio Ghibli films. After agreeing, they signed the deal.[vii] [viii]

Some worried this D-T was a ploy for Disney to place itself in a position to suppress international rival on its home turf, and that since this deal Disney has intentionally neglected these films in order to avoid undercutting its own (more expensive) darlings.[ix] [x] While this consideration may have been a part of the calculus, D-T created a very specific incentive structure for Disney that did not encourage large expenditures on US promotion of Ghibli films.[xi] By far the most consistently lucrative element in this deal for Disney is the Japanese distribution rights for VHS and DVD releases of Miyazaki’s films, which all became multimillion-unit bestsellers in Japan. “The North American distribution rights of the films were just the icing on top of this. And that’s where the trouble began.”[xii]

The major issue is that, without merchandising rights, the advertizing calculus is skewed. With most films, advertizing dollars are further recouped in spin-offs and merchandizing that, in this case, would not be available to Disney. With historically miniscule and uncertain box office grosses being the only return on investment possible – and no ability to safeguard itself by editing the film before distributing it – Disney was not apt to pump much into the marketing budgets of one of these films. Without such a budget, the likelihood of its doing well was very slim. One writer calls this the “stepchild syndrome.”[xiii]

There was hope that after Spirited Away won an Oscar, anime would experience an emergence of popularity in American theaters and subsequent marketing funding. This has not been born out, either in box office receipts or in Academy Awards. Two interrelated reasons for this appear to be: 1) stubborn American notions about age and animation that make much of anime incompatible with the ways the American audience watches film and 2) the pervasive “foreignness” associated with anime films.

Assumptions about Age

One cannot discuss American consumption of anime without considering how Americans consume their own animation. Over the last 60 years, Disney has had wild success in creating a rock solid perception in the American psyche that animation is for children. Pokemon fit into that paradigm, and Americans were able to consume it voraciously. In other places, such as in Adult Swim, anime offered an opposite alternative that was still in conversation with this idea: those late night cartoons are consumed by adults but not by children. In all of American animation, there are few exceptions to this rule.

This dynamic is reflected in the nature of the area in which anime films do perform well in America: the art house theater. A recent exhibit at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences entitled, “ANIME! High Art – Pop Culture,” was one of several recent exhibitions to take anime out of the theater and move it into a gallery space. Likely, the primary allure of anime in this context is a somewhat nostalgic appreciation for their hand drawn “realness” in an era when most animated films are made by computers.  A Wharton business school article suggests that the high art connotations that anime films have taken on currently hold back the genre from universal appeal: “Anime appeals to a mostly niche market of affluent, well-educated viewers, the type who would admire small, independent films. ‘From a mass-market perspective, it doesn’t seem as accessible. Even though it is visually stunning and attractive, the storytelling can seem too high-brow for traditional family-fare animation.’”[xiv] The establishment of anime in art houses, which children do not frequent, limits the types of people who wind up exposed to these films.

“Foreignness”

In this art house context, where a sense of “foreignness” is likely seen as a positive characteristic, it did not matter that Disney was unable to (or Miyazaki chose not to) “localize” his films to make them “less Japanese.” Like almost all anime, Spirited Away is distinctly Japanese, and so to make it less so would be very difficult. Much of its code system is based in Japanese folk lore or Shinto tradition, requiring a familiarity with Japan in order to fully decode the text. “The truth is, we make our movies for Japanese audiences,” said Toshio Suzuki, president of Studio Ghibli.[xv]

“Miyazaki is incredible and the critics love him, but his movies are still just too Japanese specific for mass appeal,” said Alfred Kahn of 4Kids Entertainment, the group that brought Pokemon to the States.[xvi] Some research suggests that this statement may apply generally to anime, and that this foreignness is at the root of why anime may not have the same wide-scale appeal in the US as it does in Japan. One student, in his masters in communications thesis, directly took on the issue of why Japanese children and adults can enjoy anime while, in America, this is generally not the case. After using study groups of US residents with some familiarity with anime to gauge the general culturally -held perspective on the form, he wrote that in “anime contains cultural, adult, and mature issues that many western audiences are not used to viewing with their children. It is possible that its content will mean it is never fully accepted by the west. In much the same way as the west as been accused of cultural imperialism in the past, it is possible that same label may be placed on anime as its content conflicts with traditional western values.”[xvii] So long as films like Spirited Away that Westerners can happily take their children to see are the exception, rather than the rule, in anime, the genre will face a difficult time taking off in a market that begrudgingly insists animation is for children alone.

Workarounds

Hollywood is trying several techniques to get around these issues. The first, which appears not to work, is to attempt to relate particular anime films to Western texts through marketing and casting. The second is to simply trash the original text and start over with a live-action remake.

The promotional materials surrounding these films exemplify the first approach. The press release for the Spirited Away premier emphasized its being culturally Japanese while evoking classic Western favorites, like The Wizard of Oz or Sleeping Beauty. Similarly, Princess Mononoke’s poster features a New York Post quote saying that film is ‘the Star Wars of animated features!” In Howl’s Moving Castle, a similar message comes across: “Miyazaki’s journey down the Rabbit Hole creates a wonderland that surpasses anything even Alice could expect.”

The studio press kit included images with markedly “Japanese” signifiers, like dragons or Japanese archetechture, while emphasizing the cast and producers of the English-language version of the film. This included the popular American child actress Daveigh Chase, as well as John Lasseter, who assumed a status-as-author in America and whose name was very closely associated with the film in much American media. The same strategy was attempted with Princess Mononoke, with its A-list cast.

Trailers for the Spirited Away prominently branded it as a Disney production first and foremost, before giving way to a world in which there is Kanji and other distinctly Japanese signifiers. Otherwise, it highlights the film’s awards, playing to the Art House audience. This branding as a “Disney product” proves significant in the English language version in at least one major way: while they could not alter the images in the film, Disney’s dubbing does add a final line of dialogue that considerably changes the tone of the ending of the film to make it much more optimistic and American-audience friendly. In general, it would be a mistake to say that these films are delivered to American audiences as pure “Japanese” products; they are mediated texts changed by the institutions they pass through in order to appear more familiar to an American audience.

Even so, most people did not watch them. The other significant Hollywood technique is remaking anime films into live action films. The clear advantage of this approach for Hollywood is that it knows its audience and is excellent at delivering to it exactly what it wants and will pay for. Many blogs are calling the recent uptick in these kinds of films the “Anime Invasion” or, more bluntly, Hollywood’s new cash cow. Recent films like Speed Racer, The Matrix (said to be based on Akira) and Transformers exemplify this trend, and we should expect to see many more of these remakes in the future.

Conclusion

In whatever the form, it is clear that Anime will continue to have a remarkable effect on the American cinema market in the coming years. There are not many film production studios outside the US that compete with Hollywood for American eyes, especially in the world of popcorn movies. That Studio Ghbili is even on the radar is a tremendous testament to the stature of Japan’s Gross National Cool. This approach does not even address the aesthetic influence anime is currently exercising all over the world in animation and film studios.

The D-T deal is a tremendous roadblock towards the wide-scale release of anime films in the US. When it is abandoned or altered, when another Miyazaki rises to the spotlight, or when audiences convince Disney that anime will work in the United States, the genre will have a much better fighting chance here.

Discussion Questions:

In terms of soft power, which is more significant: that fewer audiences see original Japanese films or that more see Japanese-influenced filmmaking?

At this point, it is difficult to predict the future of anime in America. While it is very popular in certain areas, Americans seem reluctant to adopt the foreign form in its own cultural productions. Do you see this changing in the coming years? Is anime on its way in or on its way out?

I am arguing that the foreignness of these products is actually a turn-off to the general American consumer. This seems to run opposed to McCray’s argument that the “Japaneseness” of Japanese products is what draws the consumer in. Do you buy my argument? Are these contradictory stances?

If you do buy my argument, could it be that film is one area in which we have traditionally dominated and now we do not want Japanese influence because of some sense of cultural insecurity?

Sources

[i] “Spirited Away – Extras and Trivia.” Eternal Promise: The Haku of Spirited Away Fanlisting. N.p., n.d. Web. 20 Apr. 2010. <http://haku.winglica.com/spirited_away_extras.php>.

[ii] Box Office Mojo. “Spirited Away (2002) – Box Office Mojo.” Box Office Mojo. N.p., n.d. Web. 21 Apr. 2010. <http://boxofficemojo.com/movies/?id=spiritedaway.htm>.

[iii] Faiola, Anthony. “We’re Playing Their Toons.” The Washington Post 6 Dec. 2004, sec. C: 01. The Washington Post Online. Web. 20 Apr. 2010.

[iv] “Nielsen Ratings/Children’s Television.” The TV IV. N.p., 19 Nov. 2006. Web. 20 Apr. 2010. <http://tviv.org/Nielsen_Ratings/Children%27s_Television>.

[v] Frasier, Alexander Nghiem. “A clash of cultures: Cultural differences within American and Japanese animation.” Masters Abstracts International Vol. 45.5 (2007): 2124. P3. University of Texas at Arlington Library. Web. 20 Apr. 2010.

[vi] Johnson, G. Allen. “Worldwide, Asian Films are grossing millions. Here, they’re either remade, held hostage or released with little fanfare. .” San Fransisco Chronicle 3 Feb. 2005: n. pag. SFGate. Web. 20 Apr. 2010.

[vii] Raymer, William C.. “D–T+10: The Legacy of the Disney-Tokuma Deal.” Online Ghibli. N.p., n.d. Web. 21 Apr. 2010. <http://www.onlineghibli.com/spe/disney-tokuma.php>.

[viii] “The Disney-Tokuma Deal .” Nausicaa. N.p., n.d. Web. 21 Apr. 2010. <http://www.nausicaa.net/miyazaki/disney/>.

[ix] Hairston, Marc. “Spirited Away by Miyazaki.” Frames Per Second Magazine. N.p., n.d. Web. 21 Apr. 2010. <http://www.fpsmagazine.com/comment/spirited.php>.

[x] Johnson, G. Allen. “VIEW / Worldwide, Asian films are grossing millions. Here, they’re either remade, held hostage or released with little fanfare..” San Francisco Bay Area — News, Sports, Business, Entertainment, Classifieds: SFGate. N.p., n.d. Web. 20 Apr. 2010. <http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2005/02/03/DDGHFB40EG1.DTL>.

[xi] Hairston, Marc. op.cit.

[xii] Ibid.

[xiii] ibid.

[xiv] “Anime: Japan’s ‘Gross National Cool’.” Knowledge@Wharton. N.p., n.d. Web. 20 Apr. 2010. <http://knowledge.wharton.upenn.edu/article.cfm?articleid=1613>.

[xv] Faiola, Anthony. op. cit.

[xvi] Ibid.

[xvii] Frasier, Alexander Nghiem. “A clash of cultures: Cultural differences within American and Japanese animation.” Masters Abstracts International Vol. 45.5 (2007): 2124. University of Texas at Arlington Library. Web. 20 Apr. 2010.

Entry contributed by Andy Henderson

Murakami Takashi, "Gero-Tan" "I express hopelessness."

In the past several decades, Japanese popular culture has become inundated with a “cute” or kawaii aesthetic that is unique to the country. This imagery is present in media, advertising, and merchandise, and its appeal has expanded to overseas markets—the worldwide popularity of Hello Kitty being one of the best examples of this phenomenon. But when the bright colors, cartoon characters and whimsical subject matter began appearing in high art, it prompted a discussion as to why cuteness had developed such appeal and become so omnipresent. Japanese artists of the Superflat movement use the language of this pop culture iconography to explore what kawaii says about the Japanese people and their history. Takashi Murakami, founding member of the Superflat movement and author of its manifesto, views the development of kawaii as Japan’s response to World War II and the atomic bomb.

Murakami, “Mushroom Bomb Pink”

The Neutered State
When the Americans rewrote the Japanese constitution after World War II, they included a clause prohibiting Japan from using its army for anything but self-defense, and demanding that it remain a “peaceful state.” Some historians see Article 9 as a symbolic castration, forcing a policy of nonaggression and stripping the country of its right to express dissent through military action. In 2005, Murakami curated a show of Superflat art called “Little Boy,” also the codename for the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. The show’s catalogue directly faults Article 9 for the infantilism and willful innocence implied by the kawaii aesthetic, as it “forced the Japanese people into a mindset of dependency” and cast Japan in the role of a “child” obliged to follow America’s “adult guidance.” The New York Magazine review of the show notes that “Japanese pop represents the strange, even psychotic response of a population traumatized by World War II…from this vantage point, the firebombing of Tokyo evolved into the city stomp of Godzilla. The mushroom cloud became a pretty flower rising into the sky at the conclusion of a children’s TV show. Fantasies of power are irresistible to the impotent…” The sweetly naïve youthfulness of kawaii may well be attibuted to a sense of emasculation in Postwar Japan.

Murakami, “The Army of Mushrooms”

The Escapist Mentality
The growth of kawaii corresponds to the growth of otaku culture in Japan, and both kawaii and otaku provide a means of escape. Otaku can become engrossed in anime, manga, or other hobbies, sometimes to the detriment of their ability to interact with the outside world. The world of kawaii is a fantastical one by nature; where loaves of bread talk, cats wear pinafores, and children frequently possess special powers. In “Plumbing the Depths of Superflatness,” Michael Darling cites anime legend Yoshinori Kanada as an inspiration for Murakami, and notes the escapist atmosphere of his work: “Kanada’s fanciful images of destruction serve to distance the viewer (and the creator) from the real horrors of war, and can be seen as a symptomatic retreat from an honest reckoning with the ravages of World War II and the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.” Murakami also filters confrontation with the war through a cartoonish lens, but is aware of the dynamic and deliberately plays with it, as in “Mushroom Bomb Pink.” Here the mushroom cloud has formed the shape of a skull with two big eyes, painted against a fluorescent pink background. Mushrooms recur in many of his pieces, as in “The Army of Mushrooms.” The connection between the image of the mushroom and the miliaristic reference of the title is impossible to ignore, but the implications are obscured by the anthropomorphization of the mushroom and the sunny, springlike palette.
From an academic standpoint, Superflat art and the kawaii aesthetic it reappropriates is a means to examine many aspects of Japanese culture and self-perception. But forefront in the work of Takashi Murakami is a preoccupation with the past and how the Japanese choose to view and confront it.

Discussion questions:

1. Does Superflat art’s treatment of World War II help or hinder direct confrontation?

2. Does the irony of the Superflat style prevent it from having lasting impact?

3.  American critics compare Murakami to Andy Warhol, but Murakami resists the comparison. Is there an aspect of Superflat art that Western audiences would have trouble interpreting?

Sources:

Darling, Michael. “Plumbing the Depths of Superflatness.” Art Journal 60.3 (2001): 77-89. JSTOR. Web. 8 Apr. 2010.

Holmberg, Ryan. “Little Boy: the Arts of Japan’s Exploding Subculture.”Artforum International (2001).

Stevens, Mark. “Toxic Cuteness.” New York Magazine, May 21, 2005.

External links:

Video: Murakami interviewed by Jonathan Ross

Trailer for Murakami’s new animation project:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yg1RP_eaoRM

Another interview with Murakami:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJw8U9yMFZ4

Murakami’s official site: http://www.takashimurakami.com

The fan site! http://www.takashimurakami.net/

Wired Magazine profile: http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/11.11/artist.html

Entry contributed by Rachel Pick

Superflat & Superfashion

Truly, there are darker meanings behind much of Murakami’s work, along with the artists he’s recruited to be a part of his superflat movement. Though his art, and this collaboration with Louis Vuitton, seem like Warholian simulacrum (a meaningless, fun copy of something that isn’t good or bad)it really isn’t ambiguous at all, and that’s what makes the art complicated. Either it’s subversive, or it’s some kind of unfunny perpetuation of Japan-as-empty, because, well, it’s the cuteness, not the meaning, that sells—and boy, does it sell!

Empty or Full?

What appears to be especially troubling about this Murakami/Vuitton collaboration is this idea  (proposed by Marc Jacobs) that Louis Vuitton provides the “history” and Murakami provides the image that’s overlaid. Indeed, Murakami didn’t design a new LV logo—as that would misplace (or entirely remove) what is signified by the logo—“classic”, “French”, “cultured”, “wealthy” etc. Murakami’s addition, one could argue, is so successfully connected with such a loaded logo because it fails to signify anything other than “cute!” We’ve encountered cultural oderlessness before, and this certainly fits into that pattern of things that are vaguely Japanese; and while Jacobs and the brand didn’t try to undermine Murakami’s Japanese-ness, it’s not a big part of the collaboration. This is like superflat gone way, way too flat—there’s nothing political left, nothing serious left. To return to that TIME magazine article, perhaps Murakami was concerned that the West cannot recognize the politics behind his superflat movement as easily as, say, a Japanese audience can—and that this artist, who claims he doesn’t distinguish between art and commerce, well, really—he does. There is thought behind superflatness, even though most take his work as psychedelic eye candy.

Real eye candy

If we look at the advertisements Murakami created to “celebrate” his six year collaboration with Louis Vuitton, there are some striking aspects that can lead you to think, well, maybe it’s subversive (on Murakami’s part) after all? Is Murakami playing a trick on all of is, is he laughing all the way to the bank? Let’s look at one: What’s really going on here? The panda physically literally consumes the girl, and then she falls into this insane fantasy of color and surface—the entire commercial perpetuates this idea of Japan-as-fantasy, this Japan-for-kids, and, much more importantly, this Japan-as-entirely-unreadable. If we buy this Murakami-Vuitton bag, do we get to consume the girl (read: Japanese mystique, Japanese cute) entirely? By owning a Murakami bag, do we own a part of this fantasy? Yes, we do—at least, that’s what they want us to think. Is this a good thing?

Indeed, UCLA Sociologist Adrian Farell, who has spent time studying the Murakami “phenomenon”, has this to say about the idea of Murakami “tricking” or “playing a joke on” the Western consumer:

Murakami self-consciously sees his art as an inversion of Orientalism. Like others of his generation (he was born in 1963), he grew up obsessed with America’s power over Japan, and with bitter memories of the wartime experience. There is a kind of “passive aggressive” attitude to the West in the work. He is, in fact, a Japanese nationalist, and as such sees his art as a way of playing up to Western stereotypes of Japan, of fooling Western tastes. There is something quite cynical about how he talks about his art strategy to a Japanese audience.

Truly, this attitude must bleed over—there must be some of this passive-aggressive sentiment within Murakami’s work with Louis Vuitton—even though it seems like he respects the fashion house, perhaps he sees it as a double-dupe: not only is he making millions of dollars defacing this glimmering stereotype of Western wealth, he’s also acquiring millions of Western fans who cannot understand what he’s actually doing, making them, not Japan, the infantile, underdeveloped ones. Yet, how successful is this as a political comment (or really, attack) on Western attitudes towards Japan, if most of Murakami’s critiques go unnoticed? Murakami has put himself in a culturally difficult position here, and it will be interesting to see if he ever clearly positions himself against the West.

In the end, does this (ongoing!) collaboration with Louis Vuitton undermine the artistic (political, social) “legitimacy” of superflatness, or does it work perfectly with it? Is the essence of superflat supposed to hide further meaning from the Western consumer, making the real meaning only accessible to the Japanese? These discrepancies are indeed troubling, and sooner or later Murakami either going to have to fully admit or fully deny the meaning behind his art work, or else this simulacrum will become responsible for not only flattening “art”, but also contemporary Japanese culture.

Discussion Questions:

Do people like Murakami (arguably the one of the most famous modern Japanese artists) add to the “fullness” of Japan, or is it the opposite? Is everything truly superflat? If superflat art lacks meaning (or denies meaning), what does this say about contemporary Japan? Is this culture something that can be bought and sold to any consuming–can we own “Japaneseness”–or is this all just a big joke?

Do you think there is something subversive about the Murakami Louis Vuitton advertisement? Or is it simply more of the same?

Sources:

Darling, Michael. “Plumbing the Depths of Superflatness.” Art Journal 60.3 (2001): 77-89. JSTOR. Web. 8 Apr. 2010.

Chong, Jessica. “A Sociologist’s Guided Tour of © MURAKAMI.” SSRC. Ed. Mary-Lea Cox. The Social Science Research Council. Web. 28 Apr. 2010. .

Frederick, Jim. “Move Over, Andy Warhol.” www.time.com. TIME Magazine, 19 May 2003. Web. 12 Apr. 2010.

& Various Youtube Videos:

1. Murakami Vuittion Advertisment, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqaXxSBZTZc

2. New York Magazine’s Art critic Jerry Saltz on Murakami’s ©Murakami show, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxmMxi-lelg&feature=related

3. Interview with Marc Jacobs about Murakami collaboration, done by MOCA, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8qWbt_Ao_d0

Links for further discovery:

Art collector upset over Murakami print!

A Western Louis Vuitton advertisment

Some of Murakami’s designs on the Louis Vuittion website & one of the original Murakami bags for sale (used!)

Entry contributed by Eugenia Hannon

In class we have discussed the Otaku culture in Japan, and how it is perceived by through the media, and within certain social frames.  While there are similar social phenomena in the United States within certain communities (gaming, comic book, etc), I would argue that the otaku lifestyle seems to be a uniquely Japanese occurrence.  I find this to be true because unlike American geek communities Otaku have a stronger influence on greater Japanese culture and lifestyle, which is evident through the existance of locations like Akihabara (certain similar American communities have not yet reached a level of influence that they have entire neigborhoods).  Generally an otaku is an individual whose life is governed by their obsessions, that generally relate to gaming, anime, manga, dame, and other virtual experiences.

The otaku lifestyle is interesting because it is viewed by some as a positive celebration of certain aspects of culture, but by others as an antisocial depression induced/inducing condition.  According to otaku academic, anime producer, and author, Toshio Okada, there are currently 10 million Japanese people who he would define as being otaku.  This makes up approximately  1/13th of Japan’s population (Interview).

Because of multiple highly public murder cases (Tsutomu Miyazaki and Kaoru Kobayashi are example)s in which the perpetrators of the crimes were otaku, otakudom has gained a quite negative public fascination.

Kaichiro Morikawa

This is compounded by the antisocial attributes already attributed to otakudom by the public.  Kaichiro Morikawa, a Japanese academic who works with “Theories of Design” (Kaichiro Morikawa website in Japanese), argues that another culture exists within Japan that shares some similarities with the otaku population but deviates from the culture in several significant ways.  This group is known as “mania” .

While mania are also known to have life affecting obsessions, Morikawa says that there are three major differences between Otaku culture and mania culture.  According to Morikawa the first difference between the two camps is that mania are often socially able and active within society, while Otaku are infamous for being unfriendly and reclusive.

The second difference is that mania’s obsessions often deal with things which are tangible and material.  This differs from Otaku who obsess over virtual realities, and magna related fantasies.  It could be argued however, that this distinction is not legitimate in that certain Otaku interests are experienced in the physical realm, such as an individual creating Manga related art, or engaging in cosplay.  I would argue however, that even those these activities are physical, the worlds and greater stories that the physical actions are based on, are fantasy related.  While an otaku might spend their time following an obsession of a Manga and create costumes of his or her favorite character, a mania might spend time studying train tracks which he or she is physically able to experience in real life.  It is possible that one of the reasons mania has a more positive image is that the obsessions tend to concentrate on subjects that are tangible.  This could be attributable to the fact that outsiders who do not understand the fantasy world’s which create otaku obsessions, they could more easily relate to something that they have experianced like trains or sports fanaticism.

The third distinction between the two social groups comes from the nature of the obsession.  Mania generally choose one subject to obsess over, while otaku often embrace many different aspects of obscure culture (Interview).

I find the distinction between mania and otaku interesting because it helps me to better understand one of my favorite aspects of Japanese culture that I have been subjected to growing up, Sasuke.  Sasuke, or Ninja Warrior, as it is known in the United States is a physical challenge television game show made in Japan which I watched frequently throughout high school.  The aspect of Sasuke that appeals to me the most is the extreme dedication to and obsession of the competition that most of the competitors exhibit. Out of the 25 Sasuke television specials there are multiple athletes who have competed every time.

There are many competitors who have a mania-like obsession with Sasuke.  These competitors go to great lengths to train for the competition often rebuilding physical obstacles at their homes or places of employment.  While these athletes are all completely obsessed with competing in Sasuke, they seem to fit into the mania social group over the Otaku.  This is because the athletes are shown on the show as being socially able, and often their home lives are featured to give deeper background.  It is also important to note that the shows objectives in showing the contestants home lives, may be in attempting to create a specific image of Sasuke that consciously seperates itself from otakudom.  Also the athletes are obsessed with physical challenges, not fantasies.  The athletes also match the third criteria of mania culture by generally dedicating their obsession to only Sasuke.  Many of the athletes have jobs only to afford their training equipment and competing (Ninja Warrior).  It is interesting that the criteria that seperate mania culture from otaku culture also seems to draw it closer to various cultures within the United States.  This could be true for someone who follows baseball and game statistics in an obsessed fashion.

An obstacle from the first tage of Sasuke

Sasuke differentiates itself from most other physical challenge shows I personally have seen, by being much more difficult.  Even though there have been 25 Sasuke

Kazuhiko Akiyama: The first competitor to win Sasuke. After going blind Akiyama continued to train for and compete in Sasuke.

competitions, and in each competition 100 athletes compete, there have only ever been three champions of Sasuke.  The video bellow features member of the Sasuke-mania culture Makoto Nagano.  Nagano is a member of six competitors called the “Sasuke All Stars” who have become famous for their impressive performances, and dedication to the competition.  The start of the video shows some of Nagano’s impressive training which occurs on his boat.

Nagano wins Sasuke

While otaku culture may have gained a very negative social connotation, especially in the United States, mania does not have the same social stigma. It is important to note however, that it is entirely possible for mania culture to have negative repurcutions for those engaging in it.  An example of this could be if an individual spent an amount of money beyond their means on their obsession.   Sasuke is just one example of mania lifestyle, and it’s acceptance in the United States.

For more information about Sasuke check the fan-based website .

Discussion Questions:

Morikawa’s definition of mania in opposition to otakudom is legitimate?  Do the two need to be separated, or are the so related that the distinction is mute?

While Sasuke is a culturally harmless show, and mania culture is definitionally less socially harmful then otakudom, is it possible for there to be significant negative social repercussions of mania culture?

Sources:

1)”Ninja Warrior – G4tv.com.” Ninja Warrior. G4TV. Web. <http://g4tv.com/ninjawarrior/>.

2)Okada, Toshio. “Otaku Talk.” Interview by Takashi Murakami and Kaichiro Morikawa. Japan Society. Web. <http://www.japansociety.org/content.cfm?page=otaku_talk>.

3)”Archive of Studies.” Kaichiro MORIKAWA Website. Ed. Kaichiro Morikawa. Web. <http://homepage1.nifty.com/straylight/main/index_en.html>.

4)”The Cannibal Nerd: The Rise and Fall of Tsutomu Miyazaki | Dr. Killer Network.” Dr Killer : The Stories of Serial Killers, Cannibals, Murderers. Web. 2010. <http://www.drkiller.net/the-cannibal-nerd-the-rise-and-fall-of-tsutomu-miyazaki.html>.

5) NinjaWarrior.us | The #1 Sasuke/Ninja Warrior Fan Site. Web. 2010. <http://ninjawarrior.us/>.

Perhaps one of the most influential factors in Hello Kitty’s popularity in Japan is the younger Japanese generations’ mania for ‘kawaii‘ (cuteness), an attribute that has often served as the character’s primary marketing tool. Although the somewhat expressionless cat was originally marketed toward young girls between the ages of five and six who are too young to play with Dora or appreciate Barbie, Hello Kitty mania has spread to adults and teens alike, quickly proving to be a serious commercial and cultural commodity far beyond its target audience. The rise of cuteness in Japanese culture emerged in the 1970s through the development of a style of cute handwriting known as Anomalous Female Teenage Handwriting that was developed as an underground movement by Japanese teenage girls. Today, the phenomenon of kawaii extends far beyond cute handwriting and is now associated with acting childishly, using infantile slang words, idols such as Seiko Matsuda, cute fashion, and miniature products, and is no longer limited to teenagers. The fascination with making things as cute as possible, even common household items, has now been embraced by people of all ages, to the point that Japan now depicts Pikachu on their airplanes, and each of Japan’s 47 prefectures, the Tokyo police, The Japan Post and the government television station all have their own cute mascots. Sanrio’s line of products featuring Hello Kitty and more than 50 other kawaii characters has been the most successful to capitalize on the cute trend in Japan and the rest of the world. The Hello Kitty image has been easily exportable, particularly in the United States, where  trendiness  legitimizes the cat for a whole new generation and nationality of consumers. As with all of its characters, Sanrio markets Hello Kitty on nearly every product, including a condominium complex, toasters, cell phones, cars, and even a maternity hospital.

While this obsession with Hello Kitty is increasingly accepted in Japan as a part of Japanese culture and national identity, it is still a very specialized in the United States often associated with what Christopher Noxon refers to as “re-juvenilization” and defines as “a new breed of adult, identified by a commitment to remain playful, energetic and fun in the face of adult responsibilities. Whether buying cars marketed to consumers half their age, dressing in baby-doll fashions or bonding over games like Twister or stick ball, this new band of grownups refuses to give up childish things they never stopped loving, or else revels in things they were denied or never got around to as children. Most have busy lives and adult responsibilities. Many have children of their own. They are not stunted adolescents. They are something new: rejuveniles.” This phenomenon of re-juvenilization in the U.S. has been able to find substantial validity in Japan’s kawaii exports, particularly Hello Kitty, due to her current status as trendy and couture among celebrities and the fashion elite. Indeed, Hello Kitty has been increasingly liked with cuteness and re-juvenilization as a movement for the most affluent of consumers, evident in new lines of lavish products such as the Kimora Lee Simmons line of diamond jewelry, the Three Apples Fashion Show, Hello Kitty credit cards and Tarina Tarantino jewelry.   By placing such a juvenile character on such expensive and adult products, Hello Kitty helps to blur the generation gap in the United States and allows women specifically to figuratively stave off the societal and physical signs of aging by reliving their childhood mannerisms. In turn, this regression is represented not as immaturity, but as a bold and fashionable statement of self-representation, primarily due to the very adult income required to maintain the Hello Kitty “look”.

Kawaii and Japanese culture in general has been a large component to American high-fashion, and Hello Kitty is a dominant purveyor of this representation.  Often pictured in kimonos or as a geisha, and depicted on bento boxes, fans, chopsticks, etcetera, Hello Kitty serves as access to Japan and allows Westerners a small piece of involvement in Japanese and kawaii culture. In fact, in 2008 Hello Kitty was officially named the official tourism ambassador of Japan, exhibiting the nation’s desire to have the character expressly linked with their country and to serve as a representation of their culture.

Surprisingly, however, Hello Kitty equally serves as a culturally neutral or mukokuseki character, often depicted in culturally unidentifiable clothing and seen in very vague locations filled with circular trees and generic box houses. Even more surprisingly, Hello Kitty is sometimes portrayed in a very Western light such as wearing and “I love New York” t-shirt, and features an entire line of products with French phrases that display Hello Kitty in front of the Eiffel Tower wearing a beret. This variety of representations of the same character are largely what has attributed to Hello Kitty’s popularity worldwide, as she can change to meet the desires of each consumer and appeals to a variety of nationalities and cultural preferences.

Regardless of whether it is in Japan or in the United States, the rejuvenile movement allows new generations of teens and adults alike to defy previously existing social and economic structures. Perhaps in both the Eastern and Western hemispheres, the cause of the youth statement lies not in a revolt against the adult life but in the refusal to give up the pampered, materialistic childhood lifestyle to which they have grown accustomed. In Japan, the baby-boom generation, which had achieved affluence during the economic bubble years, spoiled today’s young adults with material goods and  amusements while neglecting to prepare them for entering into society, and a similar pattern has surfaced in the United States. Will cute culture’s emphasis on consumerism, pleasure and indulgence result in nothing but social turmoil, as seen in the phenomenon of “freeters“ in Japan and the “Quarter life Crisis” in the United States?”

Further Discussion Questions

Is the Hello Kitty craze helping or harming the global perception of Japan in terms of the country’s post-bubble well-being?

Is Hello Kitty soft power for Japan, or does the re-juvenilization associated with kawaii make it part of a different cultural phenomenon?

Does Hello Kitty perhaps hold the most soft-power for Japan compared to other post bubble products do to its global appeal, high price tag and overwhelming presence?

What does the fact that kawaii appeals to both sexes in Japan, but almost soley to women in the Untied states say about the dynamics of gender representations in Japan?

Sources

Greeting card site http://www.sanrio.com/sanriogreetingcards/ Accessed April 10, 2010.

“Anamoulous Female Teenage Handwriting.” Japan Talk. http://www.japan-talk.com/jt/guide/anomalous-female-teenage-handwriting. Accessed April 8, 2010.

Kawaii http://www.supercutekawaii.com/ Accessed April 10, 2010.

Kosugi, Reiko. “Youth Employment Within Japan’s Economic  Recovery: Freeters and NEETS.” The Asia/Pacific Journal, May 11, 2006. http://www.japanfocus.org/-Kosugi-Reiko/2022. Accessed April 6, 2010.

Lee, Diana. “Inside Look at Japanese Cute Culture,” September 1, 2005. http://uniorb.com/ATREND/Japanwatch/cute.htm. Acessed April 9, 2010.

Noxon, Christopher. Rejuvenile: Kickball, Cartoons, Cupcakes, and the Reinvention of the American Grown-up . Random House, 2007.

San Rio info and history. http://www.portalbrain.com/hellokitty/hellokittyhistory.html. Accessed April 10, 2010.

Skov, Liese. Brian, Moeran. Women, Media and Consumption in Japan. University of Hawaii Press, 1995. pp. 222-230.

Vanrenen, Bess. Generation What?: Dispatches from the quarter-life crisis. Fulcrom Publishing, 2007.

Entry contributed by Shannon Grunewald

Hello Kitty is one of the most recognizable characters of Japanese cool.  Created in 1974, Kitty-chan merchandise has been marketed worldwide to children and adults alike, and she was recently named the Ambassador of Tourism for Japan.  So what is so special about this kitty?  What exactly are Americans consuming when we take part in the Kitty Boom?  Are we buying Japan, or is it just cute?

In order to determine how and why we consume this cute cat, it is important to analyze how we read Hello Kitty in an American context.  In the United States , Hello Kitty is marketed almost primarily in the form of material goods.  Unlike other Japanese toys, Hello Kitty lacks a detailed background story, and she is without an ongoing adventure or plot.  She is, in a sense, not a kitty, but rather an image—one that has done remarkably well in replicating itself to sell all sorts of goods, from baby bottles to handbags to vibrators.  Hello Kitty is a product of late capitalism: she is the postmodern cat.

As a character, Hello Kitty functions as a simulacrum.  Defined by Baudrillard, the presence of the simulacrum is a postmodern affliction in which the image, instead of representing reality, begins instead to replace the real.  He writes, “Simulation… is the generation by models of a real without origin or reality: a hyperreal” (Baudrillard 389).  Hello Kitty material goods exemplify the simulacrum, in the sense that they are all “copies of copies of the same commodified image with no apparent original (McVeigh, 232).  Hello Kitty  has no fairy tale to which the consumer can refer: there is no ‘reality’ of a story behind her image.  In an article praising Kitty-chan’s longevity as a product, Leo Lewis explains that “she is not a manga spin-off like Dragon Ball, a game spin-off like Pokémon or an anime spin off like Gundam” (14).  Hello Kitty has thus achieved fame solely as an image, an image which has proven extremely capable of replicating itself for consumption (Lewis 14).

But wait– Hello Kitty does have a story, right?  She is from London, and lives there with whole slew of Kitty family members, at least according to McGray’s description of the complexity of her origins in his article on Japan’s Gross National Cool.  Although Sanrio has created multiple story lines for Hello Kitty and her Friends, the timing of these spin-offs is crucial.   Hello Kitty, before she ever had a story, had retail.

Sanrio marketed Hello Kitty products long before her background story and its subsequent children’s newspaper, video games, or television series, were ever released.  The first Hello Kitty product marketed in Japan was actually a small coin purse: a telling object for an image based solely on consumption.  McVeigh quotes Ben Hensley, a marketing manager for Sanrio based in San Fransisco: “’We’re the leader in the retail-first strategy of creating characters to be on products’” (232).

This strategy of retail-first is just as it sounds: Sanrio creates merchandise branded with a character before ever inventing a storyline to accompany the image.  This marketing strategy exemplifies the simulacrum.  In a late-capitalist society in which consumption itself becomes a value, the image no longer needs to reference an original.    Hello Kitty, in Japan, the United States, and the rest of the world, is consumed primarily as this image.

As a character that lacks an original story, Hello Kitty seems to embody the mukokuseki style of Japanese products marketed abroad.  Koichi Iwabuchi claims that much of the “soft” technology exported from Japan appears mukokuseki, or nationless, in its aesthetic and is thus more accessible to consumers outside of Japan.  Much of anime has been described in this way because it’s central plot takes place in a fantastic land instead of being based in a representation of Japan, which would give it a more Japanese “cultural odor.”  The character of Hello Kitty takes nationlessness to the next level: lacking any ongoing story, she cannot trouble the consumer with complications of cultural specificity.  As an image, in fact, Hello Kitty seems capable rather of taking on the odor of any location, style, age group, or social class.

Hello Kitty has a knack for costume, which has most likely contributed to her global success as a product.  Her plain image can be seen as a blank canvas on which all sorts of consumers can project their own interpretations of Kitty-chan’s style.  McVeigh describes this aspect of Hello Kitty’s character as her “powers of transformation,” citing other Sanrio products such as Mermaid Kitty, Bee Kitty, and Koala Kitty to demonstrate Kitty-chan’s ability to appropriate a variety of styles while still maintaining her expressionless face (233).   Hello Kitty does not only appropriate the cuteness of other animals, but can essentially be dressed up in any style in the world.

Exemplifying globalization, Hello Kitty merchandise is always localized.  She is supposed to be a British cat, and her English name creates a foreign appeal in the domestic market.  In Japan, however, the company Emori has created “200 different ‘localized’ Kitty dolls.  Each Japanese prefecture and major city now has its own version of the little cat representing that region’s specialty” (Lewis 15).  Marketed abroad, however, Kitty-chan maintains her ‘foreign’ appeal, and Sanrio’s products are similarly localized for every region in which Hello Kitty merchandise is sold (Yano 65).  Hello Kitty’s ability to transform her own image into one that fits any context explains her popularity among such a diverse consumer base.

Which image, then, are Americans consuming?  Is it the kawaii, or the cute?  Is it the Orientalized ‘foreignness’ of this ubiquitous cat?  Or is it just sheer consumerism, the availability of a seemingly infinite number of Hello Kitty-branded products, to which American consumers are drawn?  For now, Hello Kitty is keeping her mouth shut as she reaps the benefits of Cool Japan.

Sources:

Baudrillard, Jean.  ”The Precession of Simulacra.”  Cultural Theory and Popular Culture: A Reader.  Ed. John Storey.     Harlow: Pearson Education Limited, 2006.  389-396.

Iwabuchi, Koichi.  Recentering Globalization.  Durham: Duke University Press, 2002.

Lewis, Leo. “Hello Kitty Turns 30 and Keeps on Growing.”  J@pan Inc.  47 (Sept. 2003): 14-15.  Academic Search    Complete.  Swem Library, Williamsburg, Va.  3 April 2010.

McVeigh, Brian J.  ”How Hello Kitty Commodifies the Cute, Cool, and Camp.” Journal of Material Culture 5.2 (2000): 225-245.          Academic Search Complete.  Swem Library, Williamsburg, Va.  3 April 2010.

Yano, Christine R.  ”Kitty Litter: Japanese Cute at Home and Abroad.”  Toys, Games, and Media.  Ed. Jeffrey Goldstein,    David Buckingham, and Gilles Brougére.  Mahwah, New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 2004.  55-71.

Entry contributed by Ingrid Heiberg

Miyazaki’s films, like all animation, are often mistaken for “children’s movies.”  This is probably due both to persistent attitudes towards the medium of animation itself, as well as the content of his films, which as a rule feature young or child protagonists frequently placed in magical or fantastic situations.  However, to dismiss Miyazaki’s product as simple escapist fantasy intended for children is to miss his intention entirely.  Miyazaki’s films, despite their deceptive style, are rife with some very mature, even adult themes.  And far from being superficial children’s entertainment, Miyazaki’s work is dense with layers of meaning and significance that give his films, despite their international popularity and universal relevance, a distinctly Japanese character.

Miyazaki has been prolific and wildly successful, and his films are a labor of love.  As such, they are full of personal meaning, and provide Miyazaki with a unique medium to communicate his attitudes, his sociopolitical opinions, and his conception of Japanese identity.  In his movies, the audience is granted a direct line of communication into Miyazaki’s hopes, dreams, and fantasies, and through him, we gain an invaluable insight into strains of thought that have animated the spirit of modern Japan and continue to define her culture and her identity today.

The Trauma of War and Miyazaki’s Pacifism

A viewer of any one of Miyazaki’s films cannot help but notice a strong antipathy towards war and violence.  Positive images of warriors and fighting heroes are scarce in Miyazaki’s tales.  His protagonists, usually children, tend to be innocent and idealistic, and their victories are seldom achieved through violently undoing their enemies.  Instead, innocence, pure motives, loyalty and dedication, and above all, selfless love and a respect for all life, are the virtues by which Miyazaki’s protagonists are able to save the day.  Examples of this include Nausicaä from Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, Satsuke from My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki from Kiki’s Delivery Service, Chihiro from Spirited Away, Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle, and Sosuke from Ponyo. Pazu and Sheeta of Castle in the Sky are also consistent with this rule, as their only act of violence is directed at an inanimate object, a great and terrible weapon that the two innocent children heroically decide must be destroyed in order to save the world – even if it may mean the loss of their own lives.  Ashitaka and San of Princess Mononoke are the most violent of these young protagonists.  Significantly, they are older, young adults as opposed to children.  Ashitaka’s violence, however, is entirely in self-defense, and is explicitly caused by an evil curse placed upon him.  That violence-causing curse that manifests itself as dark magic is frequently referred to by the characters as “hate,” and it is clear that it is something that destroys all life without distinction and must be fought.And in the end, their victory is a life-affirming one: they reconcile with their enemies and do good deeds by them for the sake of saving the lives of all.  War and violence are evils in Miyazaki’s films, but they are not evils intrinsically connected to evil people.  The antagonists of his stories almost always have redeeming characteristics, and frequently turn out to be friends and allies.  War and violence are not portrayed as personal evils, but impersonal tragedies, the results of bad situations akin to natural disasters, that afflict all.  In order to save oneself from evil, in Miyazaki’s tales, it is also necessary to save others.  Often, this includes one’s enemies.

In those few protagonists who are chiefly warriors, we see another theme of Miyazaki’s works: anti-statism.  Characters such as Marco/Porco Rosso (Porco Rosso) and Dola’s pirate crew are mercenaries unconnected with the military or the police, and are frequently opposed to them, living outside the law which is portrayed as corrupt, power-hungry, and malevolent.  There are no positive portrayals of the government in Miyazaki’s movies: even Kiki’s Delivery Service shows Kiki escaping from a police officer who was writing her a ticket without in the least implying she is wrong to do so.  The state is always the enemy: in Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind and Princess Mononoke the state is a killer who ravages the environment out of ignorance and greed, in Castle in the Sky the government kidnaps, murders and steals in order to attain a powerful weapon, and in Porco Rosso and Howl’s Moving Castle, the state is an enslaver, eager to conscript free men to fight, kill and die for them in pointless wars.  Miyazaki’s cynicism towards the government and the military is obvious and intentional.

Miyazaki’s message is timeless and universal, but his inspiration is clearly based on Japan’s experience in the Second World War.  This is evident in his depiction of war and militarism: invariably, Miyazaki’s wars take place in the sky, and feature aerial bombardment prominently.  This is most obvious in Howl’s Moving Castle, where enormous airships reminiscent of American bombers turn civilian cities into firestorms.  There is no pretense of actual military confrontation between armed forces – the conflict is purely one of terror from the air aimed at civilians and their homes, and is clearly inspired by the Tokyo firebombings.  Other city-destroying apocalyptic wars occur in the opening setting of Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, and aerial dogfights are a staple of Porco Rosso, a story that is actually set in the years just before WWII, as well as in Castle in the Sky.

However, the most interesting example of this allusion to WWII takes place at the end of Castle in the Sky.  A very white, European military man seizes an ancient weapon on the titular castle in the sky, unleashing it against the ground in a test firing.  The result is almost exactly like a nuclear explosion.

Castle in the Sky Online – Explosion at the 1:46 Mark

Muska’s comment around the 1:49 mark about a “superior being” such as himself having no choice but to burn his enemies may even be seen as a veiled indictment of Western racial attitudes towards the Japanese during the war.  It could also be a rebuke to similar ideas of racial supremacy on the part of the Japanese wartime government, whose image can clearly be detected in images of the state as an organization of conscription and abduction.  Miyazaki’s antiwar, anti-militarism, anti-state and pacifistic messages mark him as one of the most prominent members of the post-war Japanese generation who, growing up in the aftermath of that devastating conflict, rejected war and violence and adopted a new sense of Japanese identity.  Influenced by Japan’s wartime experience under a totalitarian regime as well as the firebombings and nuclear bombings inflicted upon the mainland by the United States military, these Japanese attempted to promote a new sense of Japanese identity that enshrined pacifism not just in the post-war constitution, but throughout Japanese culture.

Miyazaki’s Environmentalism and Japanese Distinctiveness

Complementing his hatred of war, violence, and militarism, Miyazaki’s films are famous for breathtaking settings of wondrous natural beauty, and Miyazaki’s love for all living things is evidenced by the strong pro-nature, pro-environmentalist and conservationist themes in his stories.  Miyazaki is hardly the first to incorporate environmentalist messages into his artwork.  He stands apart, however, in his portrayal of the natural world through the medium of traditional Japanese folklore and mythology.  In Miyazaki’s films, nature is alive and vital, much more so than the artificial habitations of human beings.  Miyazaki takes the overwhelming beauty of the forest or the ocean and supercharges it with spirit creatures, gods and goddesses, dragons, ghosts, witches, and ever-present magical wonders that blend seamlessly into the ecology and make the natural world that much more mysterious, and also that much more intelligible, to human beings.  It is more than just generic fantasy, however: Miyazaki draws heavily on traditional Japanese folklore, especially in Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away.  In addition to a wide array of mythical supernatural Japanese creatures, Miyazaki frequently alludes to kamikakushi, the traditional Japanese folk belief in being abducted and “spirited away” by supernatural beings.  Although kamikakushi stories fell out of favor in Japan during the period of increased urbanization and the Pacific War, Miyazaki’s Spirited Away is a classic telling of that genre, and the theme is arguably also present in Princess Mononoke, Howl’s Moving Castle, My Neighbor Totoro, and Ponyo.  The magical beauty and hospitable natural world populated by Japanese spirits (epitomized in My Neighbor Totoro) is portrayed in sharp contrast to the pollution and environmental devastation accompanying urbanization, industrialization, and civilization.  Man’s mistreatment of his environment is a common theme in Miyazaki’s works, ranging in intensity from the ecological apocalypse of Nausicaä of the Vally of the Wind where the theme is the major point of the plot to the far more mild Ponyo, where it is more of an aside.

Miyazaki’s message of environmental awareness and conservation is chiefly determined by personal opinion and not particularly unique to any aspect of modern Japanese culture.  His method of incorporating his message into the rich mythology of traditional Japanese folklore, however, is unique and distinctly Japanese, although uninitiated outsiders may not recognize it as such.  Much of Miyazaki’s aesthetics are very generic and “odorless,” downplaying “Japaneseness,” and frequently emulating Western and European culture and aesthetics (as seen in Castle in the Sky and Howl’s Moving Castle).  This may, in part, explain the broad appeal of his works, especially in the West.  It is in his environmental-mythical images, however, that Miyazaki puts a clear Japanese signature on his work that can be read by those who are familiar with the folklore of his homeland.

Childhood, Innocence, and the Heroic Feminine: Fantasy of a New Japan

Miyazaki’s social attitudes are also quite evident from his stories, and the image we get from them is quite interesting.  In every single one of Miyazaki’s films, one of the main protagonists is a young girl.  This goes beyond the Japanese motif of the shojo (young female heroine) who can be used as an icon of kawai (“cute”) culture.  Invariably, the female protagonist is strong, independent, courageous, and brave, and usually a paragon of innocence and virtue.  In this regard, Miyazaki’s heroines diverge slightly from kawai in that they are quintessentially innocent, as opposed to the occasionally flirtatious and sexualized young girls present in other works.  More often than not, it is the little girl or the young woman who saves the day, such as Nausicaä from Nausicaä of the Valley of the Winds, Sheeta from Castle in the Sky, Satsuki from My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki from Kiki’s Delivery Service, Fio from Porco Rosso, Chihiro from Spirited Away, Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle, and Ponyo from Ponyo.  With the exception of the hunter San from Princess Mononoke, the heroines of Miyazaki’s stories do not succeed through violence.  Instead, their feminine virtues of compassion and love, backed up by courage and an independent spirit, bring about the final victory.  Miyazaki’s heroines do more than just emulate men in the style of tough, Amazonian action warriors who best men at their own games of marital prowess.  Instead, the heroines remain feminine, and do not triumph in spite of their femininity, but because of it – generally, because of their nurturing love for other creatures and their refusal to compromise that ideal.

Miyazaki’s heroines are more than just an affirmation of his attitudes towards the appropriate role of “liberated” women in a modernized society.  They are in part, an answer to the images of apocalypse, of military destruction and ecological catastrophe, that haunt the films of Miyazaki as well as those of other prominent anime producers.  In the words of one scholar of anime, films such as Princess Mononoke offer a “violent, indeed apocalyptic, elegy for a lost Japan at the same time that it offers an alternative, heterogeneous, and female-centered vision of Japanese identity for the future.”  Again we see the powerful and far-reaching influence in modern day Japanese culture of the Pacific War.  It is no accident that anime films such as Miyazaki’s are frequently set in an indeterminate time and place – often in an “odorless” culture that is not explicitly Japanese – a timeless setting where magic still exists and the weight of the past does not burden the characters or the society.  Youthful protagonists full of childhood innocence and virtue, structured around strong, nurturing, and independent women, can be seen as a reaction to and a rejection of the pre-war Japanese society dominated by homogeneous cliques of militant adult males.  Miyazaki plays the role of a creator – his fantasies and imaginations resonate internationally in their universal ideals of peace and harmony, beauty and innocence, and also among many Japanese who look to the creation of a new Japanese national and cultural identity in response to the old, seen as irredeemably discredited by the still-lingering horror of war.  His female protagonists, liberated from the constraints of the past culture to fulfill their full potential, can be seen as the ideal inhabitants and founding daughters of the imagined “New Japan.”

Discussion Questions

What makes a story or a movie “for children” or “for adults?”  Do we see a similar ambiguity in other Japanese cultural products, or in cultural products outside of Japan?

How do Miyazaki’s films contrast with more “Western” products?  Is Miyazaki defining his work against the West, either through “occidentalism” or self-orientalism?”  Or is there more commonality than dissimilarity?

What other explanations might help us understand the phenomenon of cultural “odorlessness” in Japanese cultural products?  Are concerns of commercial appeal overseas more important in shaping output than the artist’s creative vision?  What factors might influence an artist to eschew or include traditional cultural influences, in Japan and elsewhere?

How are Miyazaki’s depictions of childhood innocence and feminine protagonists similar to other Japanese cultural products?  How are they different?

Do we see rival visions that challenge Miyazaki’s conception of Japanese post-war identity?  Do artists help to create a new social reality, or only reflect what was already present?

Related Links

Miyazaki at IMDB

Studio Ghibli

NPR review of Ponyo

Miyazaki Biography on a fansite

Sources

Freiberg, Freda.  “Miyazaki’s Heroines.” Senses of Cinema Online Journal. 2006. 5 April 2010. <http://archive.sensesofcinema.com/contents/06/40/miyazaki-heroines.html>.

Miyake, Lynn.  “Review: Anime from Akira to Princess Mononoke: Experiencing Contemporary Japanese Animation By Susan J. Napier.” Monumental Nipponica,  Vol. 25, No. 2 (Summer 2002): 260-262. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/3096725?seq=1>.

Schnell, Scott, and Hiroyuki Hashimoto.  “Revitalizing Japanese Folklore.” Asian Folklore Studies, Vol. 62, No. 2 (2003): 185-194.

<http://www.jstor.org/stable/30030285>

Staemmler, Brigit.  “Virtual Kamikakushi: An Element of Folk Belief in Changing Times and Media.”  Japanese Journal of Religious Studies, Vol. 32, No. 2 (March 2005): 341-352.

<http://www.jstor.org/stable/30234067>

Entry contributed by Chris Barnewolt

Pokémon was a phenomenon in the late 1990s and early 2000s that captured the hearts and minds of children all around the world.  Being a 10-year old elementary school student when these titles were released in the United States, in retrospect I now realize how targeted I was in marketing campaigns and how much money my parents had to shell out to appease my hunger for all things Pokémon.  It was a shock to most of the world, including the Japanese, apparently, how well this product would sell in the United States, as it was without the action that most games that sold well in the United States had.  Games like “Super Mario Brothers” and “Sonic the Hedgehog” were full of action, but this game was quite subdued in comparison, and required strategy and memorization for success, a veritable “thinker” of a title.  But it was the freedom that the game gave players that made it so marketable, and the “Gotta Catch ‘Em All” tagline was one that youngsters in America simply could not resist.

From the onset, these titles were marketed as the next big thing from Japan, so it wasn’t as though the Americans were unaware that this product was from Japan.  What they undoubtedly are unaware of, however, is the fact that many things were changed in the localization process that gave this game a sense of mukokuseki, yet subtle aspects of Japan were maintained.  First off, when superimposed on a map of Japan, the various regions of the alternate “Pokémon” Japan line up nearly perfectly with the actual map of Japan.  In fact, it seems as though the creators did not think that this would be as big of a global hit as it actually was, naming the region found in the first generation of titles “Kanto,” mirroring the actual kantou region, containing Tokyo and its surrounding area.  In fact, it was not until the “Johto” region of the second generation of titles was revealed that this was known by foreign players.  The fact that the kantou region actually exists in Japan would be known primarily to Japanese players of the game, which supports the idea that the creators of these games originally had planned for them to be set in an alternate “Pokémon” Japan, as opposed to a stateless world.  However, even though the setting remains physically unchanged between the American and Japanese versions of the game, the similarities between this imagined world and the actual landscape of Japan would, again, only be perceived primarily by Japanese players.

Many of the most famous landmarks in Japan are represented within the “Pokémon” realm of Japan.  Again, when superimposed on a map of Japan, the “Kanto” and “Johto” regions fit very nicely within the kantou and kansai areas of Japan, or the eastern and western parts of the main Japanese island of honshuu.  This was not a coincidence, however, as the size and locations of many of the major cities in the two regions are properly represented.  For example, the largest city found within the first generation of titles, Saffron City or “Yamabuki City” is located very near where the city of Tokyo would be located on the Japanese map, while the largest of the cities in the second generation of titles, Goldenrod City or “Kogane City”, is located very near where the city of Osaka would be located on a map of Japan.

Kanto (Kantou) and Johto (Kansai) located in the south

Not only location, but various famous landmarks and other distinctly Japanese aspects are represented within this world.  Connecting the Pokémon versions of Tokyo and Osaka is a mode of transportation perhaps even those living outside of Japan would recognize: the bullet train or shinkansen.  More traditional elements of Japan are represented as well, especially in the “Johto” region, mirroring the much older Kansai region of Japan.

In the Johto town of Ecruteak City or “Enju City”, parallel to real-world Kyoto, there lies a pair of towers, the Burned Tower and the Bell Tower (originally known as the Tin Tower).  In the narrative within the second generation of Pokémon titles, there is a myth that two huge legendary birds once lived at the top of the two towers before lightning struck the Burned Tower and forced the two birds to flee.  In the recent remakes of these second generation titles, the story climaxes as the hero or heroine summons one of the legendary birds to battle.  Interestingly enough, this almost perfectly mirrors the two famous towers located in Kyoto: kinkaku-ji and ginkaku-ji.  Even more interesting is that the second generation titles were dubbed Gold and Silver, paralleling the translation of the two towers, “temple of the golden pavilion” and “temple of the silver pavilion” respectively.  Not coincidentally, the large phoenix-like Pokémon, “Ho-oh,” is met at the top of the Bell Tower, paralleling the phoenix statue perched atop kinkaku-ji.  While the close parallels to actual places found in the Pokémon titles may be quite obvious and intentional, some of the more important aspects that eliminate mukokuseki in the Japanese version of these titles are the people met by the hero/heroine.

Ho-oh on Bell Tower

Kinkaku-ji

There are so many aspects of the characters met in these titles that make them colorful in the Japanese version of the games.  This vibrancy is not entirely lost in the localized English versions of the series, but there are multiple aspects of language that are nigh untranslatable and, as such, are “lost in localization.”

Osakan.

For instance, within Japan, Osaka is well known for many things, not the least of which is the dialect in which the people living there speak.  This is seen in the games’ counterpart of Osaka, “Kogane City”.  In the Japanese language version of these games, the strongest of the characters in this city, Akane, speaks in a very noticeable Osaka dialect, using words such as meccha, meaning “very”, and uchi, meaning “I” or “me,” as well as other speech patterns indicative of Osaka dialect.

American.

Another example of this is a character living in the “Kanto” region city of Vermilion or “Kuchiba”, who, in the Japanese version, goes by the name Matis.  While in the American versions of the first generation of titles dubs him as the “Lightning American” in a similar fashion to the Japanese versions of the games, it is conveyed in very different ways.  In the American version, he is a war hero whose Pokémon saved him during the war; however, in the Japanese version, he is simply an American soldier who speaks in broken Japanese, using English words in katakana script, a Japanese script used mainly for words borrowed from foreign languages, as well as fluctuating between polite and conversation verb endings, a trait commonly seen in beginning learners of the Japanese language.

The language traits found in these characters is an aspect of the games added by game developers that would most likely not be understood by most foreign players, nor would it be feasible to replicate such language aspects in foreign language versions of the titles.

Iwabuchi, Koichi. Recentering Globalization. Durham: Duke University Press, 2002.

Entry contributed by Chris Bubb

Walk into a Barnes & Noble, Borders, or almost any other American bookstore, and you are certain to find a section labeled “Manga.” Often two or three times the amount of shelf space devoted to the comics of the United States is given over to the small thick booklets filled with Japanese drawings. Why have the adventures of aspiring ninjas and timid schoolgirls taken over displays once devoted to Superman and Captain America? For the stores stocking manga the answer is simple:  economics.

In 2007, Publisher’s Weekly reported the previous year’s sales figures for graphic novels in the United States and Canada. The results were staggering. The comic stories were worth approximately $330 million, with manga making up $170 – $200 million of that total.¹ Manga made up better than half of the total graphic novel profit, and additionally there were simply more titles published. In the same report Publisher’s Weekly noted, “There were about 2,800 book format comics published in 2006, up 12% from 2005. Out of that total, 1,200 are manga titles and 965 are American genre comics.”¹ With these numbers increasing every year manga is both more prevalent and more profitable in the United States – something that bears a stark contrast to its success in its home nation.

Even as Publisher’s Weekly reported manga’s success in the United States, USA Today reported the troubles it faces in Japan. “Sales of manga fell 4% in Japan last year to 481 billion yen ($4.1 billion) — the fifth straight annual drop, according to the Tokyo-based Research Institute for Publications.”² Citing the prevalence of cell phones, video games, and a lack of variety in the comics for the decline, the article nevertheless concludes with a quote from Tufts’ Professor Napier, “They [manga] are still a staple of Japanese life.”²

This raises the question of why this struggling Japanese staple is making such a huge splash in the United States. What is it that has attracted Americans away from their own comic culture and drawn them to one so different? The first answer to this question lies precisely in that difference. When Roland Kelts interviewed Studio Ghibli Director of International Relations Steve Alpert, he asked what first attracted him to the Japanese style. Alpert replied “The way they used the frame – they weren’t afraid to break it… The perspectives are so evocative.”³ Kelts similarly writes of the works of Osamu Tezuka as “the beginning of what is referred to today by… Matt Alt as ‘the Mobius Strip’ of interrelations between Japanese and American artists – a crosspollination of influences.”³ Thus manga provides American audiences with a visual medium that initially seems extremely different, yet has been consistently and heavily influenced by their own culture.

This combination has allowed Americans to enjoy manga as an inherently “cool” other. Kelts notes, “Even the manga that is translated into English today retains certain Japanese phrases and writing in the native characters – undecipherable and illegible to most U.S. readers, but still considered cool.” This tendency can be seen in its extreme in the publication of American stories in manga form. Multiple Star Trek series have had new stories published in manga form, and even the classic Canadian superhero Wolverine has garnered his own manga. Therefore, manga is at once familiar and alien to Americans. Its otherness is exotic, cool, and comfortable – and so it sells.

In his article “A History of Manga,” first published in Viz Media’s Animerica: Anime & Manga Monthly, Matt Thorn similarly cites Tezuka’s work as one of the great turning points for the sale of manga. “Tezuka’s innovations led to a broadening of the manga market and had a consequence that would inevitably force a radical restructuring of the market: the children who were raised on the manga of Tezuka and his followers, unlike their predecessors, didn’t stop reading manga when they got to middle school. Or high school. Or college.”⁴ What happened in Japan decades ago has now happened in the United States. This training of the American consumer goes fundamentally against traditional American perception of comics as children’s reading. In the U.S. traditional times to outgrow comics – high school, college – have become essential growth times for American interest in manga. Entire websites such as www.bleachexile.com and www.onemanga.com are devoted to providing English language access to manga – sometimes releasing translations months, even years, ahead of a U.S. print release. Manga keeps its cool long after other comics have been left behind.

One of the problems plaguing manga at home has become a great strength for it in the United States. As reported by USA Today, Japanese consumers are “bored with the plots and characters manga offers.”² Yet these same plots and characters that are old hat to Japanese readers are totally new to Americans. American comics, in contrast, have trouble breaking out of their own set ways. Superman was created in 1932, and though he has had many new adventures since then, the character has remained essentially the same. Thus although the adventures of Naruto and Rurouni Kenshin (both enormously popular series in both countries) may bear strong similarities to other titles, they are new stories, new heroes, and from a new land.

Further, manga has managed to captivate a segment of the United States market never truly captured by American comics: girls. An entire “shôjo” genre “which is created primarily by women artists explicitly for audiences of girls and young women” has quickly drawn in American girls.⁴ As Barnes & Noble buyer Jim Killen told USA Today, “Manga offers something they weren’t finding in popular superhero-related comics.”² With an entire genre devoted to their interest, completely apart from American comics, it is no wonder that American girls have been drawn to manga.

Thus, in the United States manga has captured a large market because it appeals to readers on multiple levels. Telling new stories in new ways, telling stories specifically for girls, and keeping consumers interested beyond their grade-school days have allowed manga to become a cultural juggernaut, now inarguably a part of American youth culture.

Discussion Questions:

Manga is clearly a comic form like American comics, but it is also its own distinct tradition. How does the “mobius strip” factor into Japanese and American understandings of manga? To what extent is manga otherized by Americans? Is American produced manga valid, and if so does it have an American or Japanese cultural odor? Does any manga have a cultural odor?

Sources:

1. Reid, Calvin. “Graphic Novel Market Hits $330 Million.” Publisher’s Weekly 23 Feb. 2007 Web. 4 Apr. 2010. <http://www.publishersweekly.com/article/391509-Graphic_Novel_Market_Hits_330_Million.php>
2. Wiseman, Paul. “Manga Comics Losing Longtime Hold on Japan.” USA Today 18 Oct. 2007 Web. 4 Apr. 2010. <http://www.usatoday.com/news/world/2007-10-18-manga_N.htm>
3. Kelts, Roland. Japanamerica: How Japanese Pop Culture Has Invaded the U.S. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006. Print. p. 24, 33, 42. <http://www.amazon.com/Japanamerica-Japanese-Culture-Invaded-U-S/dp/140398476X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1272007034&sr=8-1>
4. Thorn, Matt. “A History of Manga.” Animerica: Anime & Manga Monthly. vol 4. 2, 4, 6. rev. 2007 Web. 4 Apr. 2010. <http://www.matt-thorn.com/mangagaku/history.html>

Entry contributed by Charles Fliss

When removed from the personal bias and the sales figures, the precise effect of Pokémania on children’s psyches and parents’ wallets is ultimately a matter of dispute.  However, the proliferation of Pokémon in the United States and its influence on the American acceptance and reception of Japan’s “cool” brand of popular culture cannot be ignored.  Kubo Masakazu of Shōgakukan Inc., the company that oversaw the production of the Pokémon comic books, cartoon, and movies, describes it best:

There never has been a game that has spread so broadly around the world and gone beyond race, language, values, and religion.  In the sense of its international commonness and the spectacular speed as well as breadth of its worldwide circulation, we could say that the phenomenon of Pokémon is unprecedented in human history.

Pokémon-painted airplanes by All Nippon Airways took off in 1998

Despite the astronomical revenues the Pokémon games, cartoons, and merchandising had already accumulated in Japan by the time of its American release in 1998, the franchise was considered a gamble.  American companies were concerned that the slow-paced role-playing game would be unable to make a dent in the action-oriented video game market, that the characters were “cute” rather than “cool,” that the story lacked a clear-cut theme of good versus evil, and that its lead character was a pudgy, yellow mouse that spoke in unintelligible babble as opposed to a more relatable human lead.  In order to market Pokémon to American audiences, business executives tailored the property to fit American standards of children’s media.  It was assumed, for instance, that the main human character, Ash Ketchum, needed to be the central focus of the marketing campaign.

It was also deemed necessary, according to Gail Tilden, the Pokémon project coordinator at Nintendo of America, to make the franchise “culturally neutral.”  This idea of making an element of popular culture “placeless” is a manifestation of Koichi Iwabuchi’s concept of mukokuseki, a Japanese term that literally means, “something or someone lacking any nationality.”  Among other things, Japanese text was removed from the cartoon, and rice balls were airbrushed to look like doughnuts in the localization effort in order to make the product more accessible to American audiences.  Norman Grossfeld of 4Kids Entertainment, the man in charge of designing the movies and cartoons for U.S. release, explains that he did not wish for the presence of such foreign forms of culture as rice balls to distract children from the scene because it might “take kids out of the experience…”

The captivated youth spent their parents' money to buy more of the American Pokémon machine.

The efforts of the American distributors paid off, and children embraced the burgeoning Pokémon machine; however, the corporate planning and strategizing did not account for how it would be embraced.  According to Joseph Jay Tobin, Pokémon gained popularity because “it provided a sense of identity to a wide variety of children.” After conducting focus testing with children, Warner Brothers concluded that Ash’s role was secondary rather than primary.  Children did not want to be Ash; they wanted to become Pokémon trainers themselves and go on their own Pokémon journeys.

This shift from a passive audience to a more active one stems from the way children interacted with the Pokémon universe.  The Pokémon games shed the inclination of video games of the time that demanded greater concentration and increasing amounts of solitary absorption in favor of comparatively simplistic software that fostered communication, interactions, and exchanges between children.  This communalism necessary to success in the game, coupled with the unprecedented levels of interactivity and control children as young as four years of age could exercise over a “world of their own,” accounts for its staggering appeal in the United States.  Furthermore, not only were children aware of Pokémon’s Japanese roots, but they were enamored with them, as well.   The value placed in the Japanese originals of Pokémon cards was drastically higher than that of the American cards, which arguably began the trend of cultural stock being placed in signs of Japanese origin.  The American youth broke with the distributors’ expectations largely because they were placed in control of the action.

The American distributors aimed their marketing towards children directly, bypassing adults altogether.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The title of this 1999 TIME article was "Beware of the Pokémania"

The American distributors were right to assume that parents would face difficulty in understanding their children’s newfound obsession.  When promoting the movies, Warner Brothers did not bother to cater to befuddled parents because it was understood that the Pokémon mythology could not be explained in just one sentence.  Despite their confusion over what Pokémon was exactly, and despite the deluge of sensational stories of children being incited to violence that were featured by such outlets as TIME Magazine, fundamentalist church groups, and CNN, most parents found the Pokémon phenomenon to be cute, harmless, and filled with good morals.  Most people, for example, discounted the claims of the child psychiatrist, John Lochridge, who told CNN that he feared that Pokémon’s creators “had deliberately set out to create a fantasy world so compelling that children would quickly become obsessed…brainwashed.”

The Radical Opinions of a Few

Click here to view the embedded video.

According to Roland Kelts, “Pokémon delivered Japan to the U.S. market.”  American business scrambled for profits, enthralled children sought more and more of the products, and clueless parents shed the dollars.  Ultimately, though, Pokémon’s most far-reaching effect on the United States was that it caught everybody’s attention.

Has any other cultural import, Japanese or otherwise, had such a sweeping impact on children’s media in the United States?  Could Pokémon have originated in another country, or is there something distinctly “Japanese” about the product?

Sources

Allison, Anne. Millennial Monsters: Japanese Toys and the Global Imagination. Berkeley: University of California, 2006.

Iwabuchi, Kōichi. Recentering Globalization: Popular Culture and Japanese Transnationalism. Durham: Duke UP, 2002.

Kelts, Roland. Japanamerica: How Japanese Pop Culture Has Invaded the U.S. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006.

Entry contributed by Sara Caudill

Currently, Japan remains one of the most homogenous countries in the world with almost ninety nine percent of its population being ethnically Japanese; however, the homogenous quality often attributed to Japan underestimates the growing importance and presence youth subcultures within Japan. Two of the most prevalent and identifiable youth subcultures are the Kogyaru (young gals) or Kogals and Gothic Lolitas. The two groups use fashion or appearance to distance themselves from mainstream society. Clothing within Japanese society seems to be one of the few ways to differentiate a person from the mainstream; however, the “rebelling” individual tends to join a group that shares similar taste in clothing and behavior lessening the rebellion effect. The young person still wishes to belong to a group, just not the mainstream group. In addition, a person wearing the fashion of a certain subculture may not necessarily embrace its principles or behave according to the rules imposed by the subculture; however, for other young people, the subculture is a lifestyle choice and not simply a cute or cool fashion. The Kogyaru culture seems to emphasize outrageous, scandalous and shocking appearance and behavior while the Gothic Lolita culture stresses modesty, politeness and proper manners. Both groups possess rebellion elements. The Kogals seem to be rebelling against the meek, quiet school girl image of the typical Japanese girl. The Lolitas on the other hand appear to be rebelling against the “repugnant”, unladylike and garish behavior of the Kogals. In addition, the Lolitas possibly are trying to escape the pressures of adulthood and becoming the ideal Japanese housewife.

Both subcultures gear toward the importation aspect rather than the exportation aspect of Japanese cool; however, the Lolita subculture appears to be gaining permanence through the opening of Lolita fashion stores internationally. The Kogals import and imitate various American personas and groups such as the American valley girl, African Americans, etc. In addition, some of the Kogal subgroups import African elements. The Lolitas import Victorian European and Rococo influences regarding manners and clothing. The Kogals imitate the Californian valley girl by getting super tan and bleaching their hair blonde or honey brown a stark contrast to the pale or “white” skin tone and dark hair color of the mainstream Japanese person. In addition, some Kogals wear the platform shoes usually associated with Clueless Beverly Hills characters, Cher and Stacey. The subgroup Gonguro seems to imitate African Americans due to the extremely darker tan than the average Kogal tan. In addition, the Gonguro style shares similar aspects with the practice of blackface since only the Kogal’s face is normally darkened to extreme levels either by tanning or makeup or a combination of both. The Yamanba and Manba Kogal style incorporate African elements through the use of makeup and animal patterns. In addition, the Yamanba style harks to the image of the mountain witch within Japanese folklore, hence the wild and unkempt hair. The Yamanba and Manba Kogyaru style mimic African aspects by applying their makeup in tribal patterns or animal patterns such as gazelles, lions, etc. They also wear animal prints only or things trimmed with animal print such as zebra, lion, cheetah etc. The Lolitas on the hand only seem to sample from 18th century or Victorian European influences and Rococo art. Like the Kogals, different types of Lolitas do exist; however, each group possesses a standard way of dressing. For Kogals, the standard outfit is a modified Japanese school girl outfit with a shortened skirt and loose socks. In addition, Kogals possess their own slang which incorporates a lot of English words. Kogals are extremely materialistic and devote much of their income supplied by their parents and date service jobs to buy makeup, clothes, and entertainment. Their main stomping ground like most subcultures in Japan is Harajuku and Shibuya. The standard Lolita outfit consists of headwear normally an Alice bow, blouse, bell-shaped skirt or dress, undergarments, bloomers, petticoats, knee-length socks or stockings and Mary Janes or some kind of closed, round toe heel or platform. Unlike the Kogals, Lolitas try to show as little skin as possible. While the Lolitas do not possess a special language like the Kogal, the subculture does stress the need to always be polite and display good manners which some call princess speech.

The Kogals and Lolitas seem to be engaging in some form of Occidental discourse. The Kogals are copying certain elements of the United States while the Lolitas are ascribing fixed principles to Europe. The Gonguro Kogals are manifestations of black people within America or the blonde valley girl while the Sweet Lolita is the manifestation of the perfect Victorian or Edwardian porcelain doll. The United States is not full of valley girls and fixing such a trait on the United States is quite similar to the West believing Japan to be only a land of sword carrying samurai. Also, the Lolitas are creating an imagined world, the Europe they are copying is not the Europe of today and the Lolitas are trying to create a timeless European ascetic or image, a technique used often in Orientalist discourse concerning Japan. The Kogal or Lolita dressing up as the blonde valley girl or Victorian beauty parallels with the American or English tourist dressing up in kimonos and samurai attire showing some agency on behalf of the Orientalized East to form some authority over the West. Overall, the threat of rebellion from the subcultures appears ambiguous. Some of the Kogals and Lolitas are making legitimate protests while others are simply following a fashion trend.

References
Kawamura, Yuniya. “Japanese Teens as Producers of.” Current Sociology 54.784 (2006): n. pag.
Web. 23 Mar 2010.

Miller, Laura. “Those Naughty Teenage Girls: Japanese Kogals, Slang, and Media Assessment.”
Journal of Linguistic Anthropology 14.2 (2004) : 225-247. Web.

Neko, Nessa. “Lolita and Japanese Society.”
http://www.lolitafashion.org/lolita_culture.php

Pictures
Kogals: http://www.jref.com/forum/showthread.php?t=23209

Lolitas: http://www.lolitafashion.org/styles_list.php

Entry Contributed by Jessica Hollimon

The growth of Japanese cuisine’s popularity in America can be easily tracked over the last few decades, with the surge of Japanese food in the West beginning near the crash of Japan’s “bubble economy” in the early 1990s. The loss of economic power was replaced with cultural dominance in other countries, and Japanese food in the West is an example of Japan’s increased presence in foreign markets. According to Ray Isle in his Food & Wine article “Sushi in America,” the number of sushi restaurants has quintupled in 1988. Benihana, one of the most well-known Japanese steakhouses in the United States, grew from twenty restaurants to eighty-eight since 1995.

Benihana, a Japanese steakhouse chain founded in New York in 1964 by Tokyo-born Rocky Aoki, exemplifies the success of utilizing Japanese cool in the marketing of a product, even if the product may not be essentially Japanese. On the company website, Benihana restaurants are called “traditional Japanese hibachi steakhouses.” However, the first teppanyaki-style restaurant in Tokyo, Misono, was not founded until 1945. Even then, such steak houses in Japan were meant to cater to foreigners (Steinberg 157). Currently, teppanyaki cooking in Japan is most often a “do-it-yourself” process in which the diner is responsible for cooking his or her own food.

Despite the lack of authenticity of Japanese steakhouses in general, Benihana places a strong focus on its roots in Japanese culture. Customers are not simply paying for food – they are paying for the Benihana “experience,” which the company asserts is very Japanese.  The company has an entire section of its website devoted to the aspects of the restaurant that are seen as Japanese in nature, from its use of bamboo in its tables to the chopsticks offered to guests. The over-the-top performances of their chefs are said to be inspired by “the art of performance” in Japan, with a paragraph about Kabuki following even though Kabuki has little to do with the spatula-swirling and onion volcanoes associated with the restaurant. The attempt establish a sense of Japanese tradition extends even further, as one even sees Japanese steakhouse chefs being compared to samurai or ninjas, with various videoson Youtube promoting that image. While the “Japaneseness” of these restaurants is often vague or even manufactured, such aspects are emphasized because they appeal to the consumer of Japanese cool.

The description of Japanese cooking in books and articles targeted towards Western audiences also contributes to this desirability of Japanese foods. Traditional Japanese cooking is almost always presented as mysterious, beautiful, ancient and even spiritual in these texts, as exemplified in Byalan Brown’s article “Zen Palate.” He describes a trip to Kyoto, which he praises as a picturesque “window to the past,” with architecture, traditions and cuisine infused with the spirit of Zen Buddhism. He focuses on the kaiseki, the multi-course meal served to tea ceremony attendants. The cuisine and customs are regularly contrasted with the West – the portion sizes are tiny in comparison, Western dishes are dull and unimaginative compared to the seasonal Japanese ones, the slurping of tea is polite — all the while painting Japan as an exotic and novel place where food is characterized by exotic practices and spiritual traditions. These exotic perceptions transfer over to the Western consumer, who may feel more tied to Japanese traditions when they pick up their chopsticks to eat sushi at a high-end restaurant.

Sushi, and to a lesser extent other traditional Japanese cuisine, has become associated with sophistication and a higher social class. On the website Stuff White People Like, an entire section is devoted to poking fun at the “yuppie” culture’s regard for sushi. In the article, the food is described as exotic, expensive and only appealing to those who are educated enough to truly understand it. An individual’s taste in sushi places them in a sort of class hierarchy, with those who simply buy California rolls at Trader Joe’s at the bottom and those who speak Japanese when they order at sushi bars at the top. A large part of sushi’s appeal, as it is presented in the West, is that it can be enjoyed only by those worldly enough to comprehend its intricate nature and the culture that surrounds it.

Multiple books are devoted to teaching Westerners about sushi, claiming that upon finishing the work, the reader will be versed in the art of sushi to impress all their acquaintances with their extensive Japanese culinary knowledge. Dave Lowry’s The Conoisseur’s Guide to Sushi promises to take those truly interested in learning the mysteries of sushi and turn them into “sushi snobs,” people well versed in “sushi lore” who will impress even Japanese sushi chefs with their authority on the subject. In his book, sushi is presented as too complex for the average Western consumer to eat without embarrassing themselves. His tone may be comedic, but the sentiment remains — sushi is a sophisticated food, and it is only for the most sophisticated of consumers.

While sushi and more traditional Japanese foods may be perceived as fare for those of higher class seeking to be more worldly and refined, not all Japanese food is consumed in the West with that attitude. Japanese snack food has experinced increased popularity in the West over the past few years, with its greatest audience being a younger generation more concerned with novelty and trendiness than class and sophistication. The consumption of Japanese snacks has seen so much growth in the West that japanesesnacks.com, a website once dedicated to the sale of Japanese snack foods, expressed pride in being “a pioneer in the Jsnack movement.” The site, which is no longer selling any product due to oversaturation of the market by copycat stores, mentions that its main customers were curious Americans. A major marketing strategy for these snacks among Western audiences is the portrayal of these foods as strange, fun, and exotic. There are several blogs, such as The Japanese Food Snack Review, that play into this perception as they focus solely on trying different Japanese snacks for the novelty of consuming something unknown and Japanese. Japanesesnacks.com also mentions regular customers being “hardcore hardcore fans of Japanese Animation, console games, and scifi entertainment.” The allure of Japanese cool thus encompasses multiple areas of consumption, as those who like anime and Japanese video games are inclined to become fans of Japanese cuisine. Jbox.comgoes so far as to sell Japanese snacks and bento on the same site as Japanese DVDs and manga.

The true allure of Japanese cool in regards to food can possibly be seen best in the Western consumption of non-food items shaped like Japanese food. There is a multitude of sushi-shaped products in America – one can find sushi ties, sushi staplers, sushi pillows, sushi earrings, and sushi earbuds on many Western websites. The Japanese food craze is even visible in Hollywood, as the singer Katy Perry wore a leotard covered in sushi during her performance at the MTV Video Music Awards. Even with the culinary draw of food gone, the “Japanese cool” remains and continues to appeal to Western consumers. They are drawn to the food even when they cannot eat it.

Are there certain aspects of Japanese cuisine that make it seem more exotic and desirable to Western consumers? What ways have you seen Japanese foods marketed, and have they contributed to this Western perception of Japanese cuisine as mysterious, novel, or intriguing? Is Japanese food more reflective of Japanese culture than the cuisine of other countries?

Sources

McGray, Douglas. “Japan’s Gross National Cool.” Foreign Policy 45. Print.

Steinberg , Rafael. The Cooking of Japan. 1st ed. New York, New York: Time-Life Books, 1969. 157. Print.

Entry contributed by Katie Johannes

Hiya! I am a senior at the College. I first became interested in Japan when I learned Sailormoon came from Japan. Since then I have branched out from just watching anime to learning about Japan’s history, culture, politics, language etc. Currently, I am really interested in Japanese pop culture because I consume so much of it. In addition, I want to get past the 2D representation of Japan, that Westerners and the Japanese endeavor to create. I also want to master the language some day but for now being able to understand the past and current culture will do.

For the typical American, seeking Japanese television dramas for one’s viewing pleasures may require more  effort than watching dubbed Japanese anime. Dubbed animes are regularly played during Saturday morning time slots, during late night runs on cartoon channels, and may be found on the Internet in both their dubbed and original Japanese form with subtitles.  In the case of Japanese dramas, access is generally more limited—unless one has access to satellite TV (though these channels generally only carry Japanese subtitles).  However, with the rise of drama-centric websites (mysoju, dramacrazy), streaming websites (Youtube, dailymotion), and the growing number of online fansub

communities (timelessubs, sars-fansubs), access to Japanese television dramas has grown in recent years.  Essentially, fansubbed J-dramas, like fan-subbed anime, are not confined to American industry regulations (the FCC), unlike dubbed animes and video games. The fans download the raw, Japanese files and translate the material to the best of their abilities, explaining Japanese honorifics, puns, and celebrity references.

Growing access to Japanese dramas (abbr. J-dramas or “doramas”) may make one feel as though one is coming closer to understanding “real Japan” –the cultural undertones of a nation different from one’s own.  Though the plots of programs may not appear plausible, just as the plots and settings of American television rarely reflect actual everyday American life, there is a more plausible realism in Japanese essence in the dramas.  In the case of dubbed animation, the programs are localized to cater to the chosen audience, though fan-subbed animes have since remedied the problem of localization.  At the same time, though, animated series may contain the culture that the subbers wish to present to their audience, but, because of the mokokuseki, the statelessness, of animes in general, one may perceive animes as a story that happens to have undertones of Japanese culture.

Since subbed dramas’ plots and dialogues are not skewed according to other nations’ media regulations–the fansubbers present a more raw form of Japanese television culture–the gap that separates the viewers from Japan lessens.  The programs are directed, written, and produced by the Japanese, characters are played and voiced by Japanese actors, and the setting is usually placed in Japan, not in a mystical parallel universe that contains undertones of Japan.  It is in this sense that a viewer may feel as though he is closing in on “real Japan.”  However, despite a translator’s ability to explain the concept of Japanese honorific suffixes (-chan, -san, -kun), some argue that a typical Westerner is unable to detect certain Japanese undertones.

In The Couch Potato’s Guide to Japan, author WM. Penn dedicates a chapter of his book to the sociology of Japanese TV.  In this chapter, he breaks down a handful of symbolism that a regular Western viewer may not be able to detect while watching J-dramas.  Penn believes Japanese dramas contain unique symbolisms that Westerners are unable to recognize and he shows this through his analysis of the presence of obentos in J-dramas.

The obento (or Japanese boxed meal) usually reinforces the state of a character’s family setting and socio-economic status, and relationship standings.

This sort of bento, prepared by the character’s mother, has, on one half, rice with a sliver of sausage placed in the center.  This bento is a modern version of the hinomaru bento, or, as Penn describes it, a “plain white rice with a red pickled plum plopped in the middle” (15).  The rice with the centered sausage depicts the Japanese flag.  This, along with the simple side dish, indicates that the character comes from a poor but proud family.

In the drama, Hana Yori Dango, the obento is also used to represent the main character’s socio-economic background.  Originally a manga and anime, Hana Yori Dango was adapted into a drama during the 2005 fall drama season, starring Inoue Mao, J-pop idol Matsumoto Jun, and Oguri Shun.  Makino Tsukushi (Inoue Mao) comes from a poor family but goes to one of the most prestigious high schools in Tokyo, Eitoku Gakuen—a school full of rich kids who do whatever the F4, the four most influential guys in school, want.

In the first episode, Makino Tsukushi’s position in the school’s social hierarchy is represented through the contents of her obento.  While her schoolmates order high-class, Western dishes from the academy’s chefs, Tsukushi sits, by herself, with her obento, wrapped in its furoshiki cloth.  She unties the cloth and lifts the top of the box.  Beneath the lid lays an assortment of sides, and the bottom half of the box is full of rice balls, coated with rice seasoning.

According to Penn, a Japanese viewer would be able to detect Makino Tsukushi’s status based on her obento arrangement.  The fukikake seasoned rice balls, a traditional Japanese food, are in plenty, filling the lower half of the bento box. Reinforced by the appearance of the upper layer, Makino-mama, who is proud of her daughter for attending such a prestigious school, regularly packs hearty meals for her daughter. She fills every corner of the extravagant obento box (that she found in the storage closet) in order to make up for their lower class standing.  Ironically, while trying to mask the family’s economic status, Makino-mama’s obento do the opposite.  The foods are Japanese and lack the extravagance of the other students’ meals.  Makino-mama tries to exaggerate the family’s standing by filling every corner of the box, as though to say, “Look, Tsukushi isn’t completely poor—you can’t see the bottom of her obento box!”

In her article about obento, Eva Lucks discusses the importance of this Japanese lunchbox.  She calls the presence of the obento “a connection between the home (uchi) and the outside (so

to).”  The obento is not just a representation of a well-fed, looked-after child—the obento also signifies the relationship between the maker and the recipient.  When the recipient (usually the child or husband) journeys beyond the boundaries of home, the “outside” judges an individual based on how well-prepared, how pretty the obento are.  The Japanese mentality appears to run along the vein of, the better prepared the obento is, the more likely the person will be accepted by his peers.  This mentality is the motivation behind Makino-mama’s well-meaning obento.

However, a more readable version of the obento is its presence in indicating the standings of individuals in romantic relationships.  In Nobuta wo Produce, the obento is used to depict the crumbling relationship between Kiritani Shuiji (played by J-pop idol Kamenashi Kazuya) and his sort-of-girlfriend, Uehara Mariko (played by Erika Toda).  The obento becomes a more relatable part of the plot as it makes its weekly cameo, appearing during the pair’s ritual lunch dates.  Uehara Mariko, in order to express her feelings for Shuiji, prepares elaborate and cutesy dishes for him, not unlike how Shuiji’s mother must have prepared his obento for him during his primary school years.  Since obento, as mentioned before, are an indicator of soto versus uchi, a quick, thirty-second scene represents the closeness Uehara Mariko believes the pair has.  She  feels close to Shuiji and wishes he would reciprocate her feelings, so she plays “house” by cooking for him—a representation of her affections.

Though the western viewer is unlikely to pick up on what the obento represents in Japanese society, the superficial indications are easily understood.  After the pair break-up, Shuiji spends his lunch hour in a distant stairwell, away from his classmates, unable to reveal his new relationship status for fear that his popularity would plummet.  A typical viewer may be able to pick up on Uehara Mariko’s lingering feelings for Shuiji as she continues to pack her elaborate obento, which include rice balls covered in heart-shaped seaweed.  By drama’s end, Uehara Mariko only makes lunches for herself and the pair reconcile their differences and are able to part as friends.

Other J-drama viewers have also detected symbolism of various drama plots.  Blogger Hei Shing tries to unravel and make sense of running themes in another drama, Strawberry on the Shortcake.  Perhaps the symbolism in Japanese television, specifically the role of the obento, is not as deep as WM. Penn perceives.  As is the case of any other kind of symbolism, underlying meanings are not meaningful unless one believes them to be so.  Westerns who view J-drama may miss the deeper indications of certain depicted cultural symbolism (uchi versus soto), but understand the general idea of that cultural practice (cooking as a form of affection).  As Hei Shing writes, “When we watch one country’s television series, we can understand their habits, social phenomenon and favourites.”  Perhaps it is in this sense that one draws closer to “real Japan”.

Discussion questions
Where do you think Japanese television dramas fall on the metaphorical ladder to “real Japan”?  What is the appeal of J-dramas? Could “more Japanese” be a factor of this appeal? How real are J-dramas?

Citations
Wm Penn. “Japanese TV Sociology.” The Couch Potato’s Guide to Japan: Inside the World of Japanese TV. Hokkaido, Japan: Forest River, 2003.  14 – 18.

Leheny, David. “A Narrow Place to Cross Swords: ‘Soft Power’ and the Politics of Japanese Popular Culture in East Asia” in Beyond Japan.” Beyond Japan: The Dynamic of East Asian Regionalism. Cornell University Press: New York, 2006. 214 – 215, 229.

Entry contributed by Jessica Wang

Now that I have lived in the United States for eleven years little has changed.  I’m a Junior at the College of William and Mary, and a film studies major.  Instead of having an obsession with collecting Pokemon cards, I now have an obsession with watching Japanese film.  Nothing is more exciting and entertaining to me then the gorgeous animation of Studio Ghibli, or the extreme sensationalism featured in films like Ichi the Killer and Battle Royal . Maybe it was effective marketing, or maybe I felt a legitimate cultural connection with those Pokemon cards when I was younger, but either way loving those cards as much as I did created an interest in the culture of another country, an interest that I have kept with me for the last decade.

Japanese version of Chamander Pokemon trading card.

Maybe it was effective marketing, or maybe I felt a legitimate cultural connection with those Pokemon cards when I was younger, but either way loving those cards as much as I did created an interest in the culture of another country, an interest that I have kept with me for the last decade.

Poster for the film "Ichi the Killer"

The 2001 film, Millennium Actress (千年女優, Sennen Joyū), directed by Satoshi Kon, uses distinctly Japanese elements to defy convention and create an animated work that fits within the umbrella of “Japan Gross National Cool” while inverting the concept of mukokuseki. The interweaving of Japanese national and cinematic history drives the film’s narrative about a famous actress whose life story is chronicled by an admiring documentary filmmaker and his cameraman. According to a review in the New York Times, ”Millennium Actress is a headlong cartoon love letter to the grand tradition of post-World War II live-action Japanese cinema, from samurai epics to urban domestic dramas to Godzilla.” Not only is the anime unique in its unabashed reliance on Japanese culture, it also comments on the nature of Japanese pop culture itself, and how that culture is produced.

Japanese history plays such as large role Millennium Actress because the acting career of its heroine Chiyoko covers such a significant span of Japanese film history, from the 1930s through the 1960s. In turn, the films that Chiyoko stars in touch upon approximately one thousand years of Japanese history, from late Heian-era Japan circa 1000 A.D. to the Edo period in the mid 1800s, and subsequently through pre and post World War II Japan. As the filmmaker Genya and his young cameraman interview the elderly Chiyoko about her younger acting days for a documentary, her own story about her development as an actor and the search for her true love becomes entangled with the history of Japanese cinema and the history of Japan itself.

Click here to view the embedded video.

To fully appreciate the narrative of Millennium Actress requires some knowledge of Japanese history, since the rapid cycling through multiple time periods leaves little time for explanation for the viewer. At an early point in the anime, the film jumps from Chiyoko’s acting debut in Manchuria to a scene from one of her movies set at the end of Heian-era Japan. The scene change is so abrupt that only the characters’ appearance (with Chiyoko dressed in a twelve-layer kimono and sporting the trademark Heian painted eyebrows) and visual homages to the Akira Kurosawa movie Throne of Blood date the setting of the scene. Viewers without a background in Japanese film or history may not catch the visual clues and would find themselves lost amid the dizzying transitions from one historical narrative to another.

The specificity of the setting of Millennium Actress may have played a large role in its commercial failure outside of Japan. Although it was screened in several international film festivals to critical acclaim, and was released by DreamWorks in the United States, it enjoyed only a limited run in the American theaters and was met by only lukewarm reception by even the most ardent Japanese animation fans overseas. Perhaps the lack of an English dub (it was only screened with subtitles) hindered its widespread appeal. It can be argued that, despite being marketed as part of “Japan Gross National Cool” during its film release (such as advertising its connection with Satoshi Kon’s earlier and more popular animated movie Perfect Blue), the film failed to live up to that distinction overseas precisely because it was “too Japanese” and eschewed mukokuseki flavor by challenging the non-Japanese viewer to identify with a specifically Japanese setting and Japanese characters.

Despite its historical references, Millennium Actress was not meant to serve primarily as a commentary on Japanese history. In an interview about the making of the film, Kon confesses that he did considerable research before he felt confident in creating a film so closely tied to Japanese history:

“Yes, I researched lots of books in order to give this film realism. But you know what, I realized how little I knew about Japanese history or culture, and even manners and customs. I was so ignorant about my own culture. I thought that I was so presumptuous to even think about making a film like Millennium Actress.…… The best thing I got out of the process of making Millennium Actress was that I’ve learned quite a bit about my own country’s culture, and general history. I feel that I am more intimate with my own culture.”

Since even the director needed to learn more about Japanese history in the process of making his film, it is clear the film’s historical nods are more in service to the film narrative than meant to form the backbone of the film itself. Kon is more interested in using the image of Japanese history to convey certain themes in his movie.

One central theme is that of the important role that fan culture plays in society. The filmmaker Genya is a passionate devotee of Chiyoko, and he turns his passion for her work into a documentary about her life. He essentially represents the “otaku” of Japanese society who are singularly devoted to their passions, but as opposed to other animated works (including Kon’s own Perfect Blue), his fandom is portrayed in a positive light. His enthusiasm allows him to connect with Chiyoko and to create a more emphatic portrait of the artist for his documentary.

Millennium Actress also serves as a commentary on the nature of Japanese pop culture itself. Scholar Melek Ortabasi argues that rather than being a pro-Japanese nationalistic work, the film is more concerned with the production processes necessary to form the cultural products that have come to define Japan. The film otaku Genya obsessively collects material about his muse Chiyoko and eventually creates an original documentary about her. So too is the movie a “collection” of film homages and famous historical reenactments that, when put together, form a new and original movie. Thus the movie alludes to the idea that the fan culture of Japan is producing the national culture as well.

Are mukokuseki/stateless themes necessary in order to create universally appealing Japanese cultural products? Can otaku like Genya play a positive role in Japanese society? What role does otaku/fandom culture play in shaping Japan’s image of itself and its nation’s culture?

Sources

“Interview with Millennium Actress Director Satoshi Kon.” DVD Vision Japan. http://www.dvdvisionjapan.com/actress2.html

Ortabasi, Melek. “Indexing the past: Visual Language and Translatability in Kon Satoshi’s Millennium Actress.” Perspectives: Studies in Translatology 14.4 (2006), pp. 278 – 291.

Ortabasi, Melek. “National History as Otaku Fantasy: Satoshi Kon’s Millennium Actress” in Japanese Visual Culture, ed. Mark MacWilliams, (Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe, 2008), pp. 274 – 294.

Scott, A.O. “To the Samurai and Godzilla, with Love.” New York Times, September 12 2003.

Entry contributed by Megan Locke

My name is Nathan Revere and I am currently a senior at the college of William and Mary. A linguist by training, I am fascinated by the intersection of language and human experience. My love for language, however, did not start academically – as a high school student I had the opportunity to live for a year in Kumamoto, Japan. Ever since, culture and language have been inextricably bound for me. The pursuit of understanding how these balance is the focus of my research.

Japan has been central to this passion of mine, and as such I have worked as a Japanese TA, worked to provide translations for the Future Shock art exhibit which visited William and Mary in 2009, and participated in summer research under Professor Hamada Connolly where I combined looking at food culture and communicative practices.

I hope to continue with these interests by becoming a professor of Linguistic Anthropology.

She was never the quickest thinker, but it took Katie years before she realized that all of these favorite programs and products were Japanese in origin. Katie, now considering a minor in East Asian Studies, knows that desperately wanting long hair (and secret lunar celestial crystal tiara powers) like Sailor Moon when she was seven may have played a small role in her decision to take Japanese 101 in her freshman year. It allowed her to understand parts of her old favorite shows in their original language and, more importantly, taught her more about the country that was able to permeate her childhood without her knowing it.

Someday I hope to work for the State Department as a Foreign Service officer, and believe that familiarity with many parts of the world is an important preparation for this occupation. To understand states in their current situation it is crucial that a person understand the past of the people and government. Japan’s Gross National Cool is a small step in that direction for me. Japan is an extremely powerful, modernized nation on the international scene, and I find the Japanese culture enthralling. I love the people, the technology, and the things that make it both similar to and different from the United States.

Hello!

My name is Adam Labriny.  I’m a Freshman here at William and Mary, and am planning on double-majoring in East Asian Studies and Business.  Ever since I was a kid, Japan has always been one of the most interesting places in the world to me.  Whether it’s T.V. shows, food, or the language itself, I love it all.

In high school, I spent a summer abroad in Akita, a small city in Japan.  This changed the way I thought about Japan.  I realized that despite studying the language since middle school, I knew almost nothing about the culture.

And so, here I am in Japan’s Gross National Cool, hoping to learn more about Japanese culture!

If you would like to know more about the high school I studied abroad at here’s a link–

明桜高校

All that changed in the Summer of 2009 when I applied to be a Peer Assistant for the Keio University / William and Mary Cross Cultural Collaboration. The program brings forty students from Keio University in Tokyo to William and Mary to learn about and experience American culture first hand. I was lucky enough to be hired by the program and it is no exaggeration to say that it was a life changing experience. Not only did I make absolutely tremendous friends from an ocean away, but I realized how truly ignorant I was of the world, and specifically Japan. Thus I set out to deepen my understanding of Japan, the United States, and their intertwined histories.

I still want a Squirtle.

To learn more about The Keio / William and Mary CCC check out the site for this year’s program:  http://keiowm.blogs.wm.edu/

Now if you really want to learn more about me, keep reading.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Domo-kun (どーもくん) is the mascot of the NHK television station in Tokyo. He has recently become popular in the U.S., advertising for stores such as Seven Eleven (as here) and Target. I love Domo because he is so goofy and in many ways reminds me of myself a little. Get me started on Domo and you’ll be talking for a while.

When I was in high school my friends introduced me to modern Japanese music for the first time. Starting off with Bump of Chicken and L’Arc en Ciel was probably not a good idea, because I was quickly hooked. My friends from Keio University introduced me to even more Japanese music, including this song, “A  Blue Bench.”

青いベンチ

I like this song because it reminds me of my friends. I hope you enjoy it too!

]]> http://postbubbleculture.blogs.wm.edu/2010/03/16/charles-fliss/feed/ 0 http://postbubbleculture.blogs.wm.edu/2010/03/15/christopher-drake-barnewolt-bio/ http://postbubbleculture.blogs.wm.edu/2010/03/15/christopher-drake-barnewolt-bio/#comments Tue, 16 Mar 2010 03:55:18 +0000 cdbarnewolt http://postbubbleculture.blogs.wm.edu/?p=497 Read More]]> Christopher is an International Relations major, with a strong interest in history.  Born in California and raised in Massachusetts, he came to William and Mary seeking some famous Southern hospitality, and likes what he sees.  Christopher began studying Uechi-Ryu Karate, an Okinawan martial art, when he was six years old and holds the rank of a First-Degree Black Belt, or shodan.

Uechi-Ryu

Growing up, Christopher initially resisted the Pokemon craze that swept through his peers like wildfire through tall grass, but was ultimately sucked in through peer pressure.  Later in high school Christopher and his friends took part in a memorable viewing of Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away, an aesthetically breathtaking film he remembers one of his friends appropriately describing as “stoner-ific.”  Simultaneously intrigued by and wary of modern Japanese pop-culture, Christopher kept his distance from most of its manifestations until being blessed with a quirky college girlfriend with a love for anime.  Through her, Christopher was reintroduced to the works of Miyazaki, Studio Ghibli, and Satoshi Kon.

These new interests were eventually integrated into Christopher’s love of history.  While taking a class on Modern Japanese History, Christopher became more aware of the unique cultural position of Japan, it’s long and varied history, and the ongoing identity crisis Japan has been experiencing since Commodore Perry forced her to accommodate the Western powers.  Christopher is particularly interested in the transformation of Japanese society since Japan’s defeat in the Second World War, and how activists on both the left and right have attempted to re-shape Japan’s modern identity in their own image.  He is especially interested in the sociopolitical messages of the great anime master Hayao Miyazaki and the semiotics present in his work, and sees him as emblematic of post-war Japanese pacifism, which may be on the decline.

Rachel is an English major, but wishes she could minor in the Internet. In terms of Japanese cultural export, she especially likes San-X characters (Afro Ken, anyone?), the films of Miyazaki and Ozu, Boris, and Boredoms. She loves the absurdities of pop culture from every country, but thinks the Japanese have a unique aesthetic sensibility and an often superior imagination. Her fascination with Japanese pop culture and all things kawaii began when she started working at a toy store her freshman year of high school. With an entire section devoted to Sanrio and San-X, she soon found herself the owner of Hello Kitty stationery made to look like toast, several plush incarnations of San-X characters, an army of metal wind-up robots, and an inconceivable amount of stickers. She once saw someone else carrying the same Hello Kitty handbag she had, but that person was a five year-old girl.

She would also like to share these two links:

Beautiful hand-painted photos of 19th century Japan

Pokemon collector breaks world record with more than 13,000 pieces of memorabilia

Like Kogepan, Rachel is usually disgruntled.

My name is Ingrid Heiberg, and I am a junior majoring in French and Literary and Cultural Studies (film track) here at William and Mary. So what is a French major doing in a class about Japanese culture? Aside from my true love for Hello Kitty and all things Sanrio, I have always been fascinated by Japanese culture, and I am excited to learn why. I have studied Japanese at William and Mary since freshman year, and I also had the opportunity to work with Japanese students from Keio University in Tokyo when they came to visit the U.S. and complete a cultural studies project comparing Japan and America. Working with these students really solidified my love for Japanese culture: Japan is no longer a cool, faraway place to me, but rather home to several of my friends. Because I am also a cultural studies major, I am excited to see how cultural studies applies to one of my favorite places to study!

Born in Taiwan. Watched countless Xiao Ding Dang (better known as Doraemon) episodes.

Moved to South Carolina at 5 years old. Watched Miyazaki’s My Neighbor Totoro–the unsubbed, undubbed, original Japanese version–at age 6 and thought, “what are they saying?” over and over again. Discovered the beauty of anime (okay, Sailor Moon) in 2nd grade. Anime obsession peaked in 5th grade with Digimon.

Moved to Virginia Beach, VA in 8th grade. Began to truly appreciate Japanese Pop in 10th grade. Started viewing Japanese Dramas during the summer between 10th and 11th grade. Drama fever settled in after viewing the still popular Hana Yori Dango two-part drama with a film finale–though at the time, only part one was released. Drama fever led to Arashi fever and the rest, as they say, is history

While most of the other boys grew out of this interest and fascination of Japan, Will Gautney did not.  A senior at the college of William and Mary majoring in Global studies with a special focus on East Asian Studies, he has been a consumer of Japanese goods, wither it be imported or localized, for as far as his memory can reach, being raised with easy access to not only the typical video games and anime, but also samurai movies and zen texts.

The process of creating or adapting a product to a specific locale, i.e., to the language, cultural context, conventions and market requirements of a specific target market. With a properly localized product a user can interact with this product using his/her own language and cultural conventions. It also means that all user-visible text strings and all user documentation (printed and electronic) use the language and cultural conventions of the user. Finally, the properly localized product meets all regulatory and other requirements of the user’s country/region.

However, with the advent of an increasingly global world, one where access to foreign media has become the norm, this concept of adaptation has become charged with new meaning. Where does the line stand between a necessary mediation of the text (so that it can be enjoyed by a non-native audience) and an overt alteration of it? Is the process of localization synonymous with censorship or is it something more transcendent: the creation of a new, hybrid cultural product? Is this a valid method of consumption, or does localization drain a work of “authenticity?” The answers to these questions—at least from a consumer perspective—can be found in the rise of the phenomenon of fansubbing, or the creation of fan-made subtitles for anime.

Anime first came to the US in the 1960’s as something marketed primarily for children. These first shows appeared on American television dubbed and often highly edited to remove instances of Japanese culture. Consequently, many viewers reported that, while such shows were notably different from mainstream American productions, they had no real awareness that the shows were a Japanese product (González 2006). Take Speed Racer for example, which aired from 1967-1968 in the US. The US opening is vastly different from its Japanese counterpart, Mach Go Go Go, the first being devoid of any and all cultural or nationalistic references found in the original.

American Opening

Click here to view the embedded video.

Japanese Opening

Click here to view the embedded video.

This trend continued into the 1970’s and 80’s when anime really started to take off as a popular form of entertainment. Scenes dealing with “inappropriate” representations of religion, drugs, alcohol, violence, and nudity were excised from American releases of Japanese works. Even cultural references deemed too confusing to the average viewer were excised, as can be seen in the comparative shots from the much beloved anime series Pokémon.

Voltron, syndicated from 1984-1985, perhaps best represents the heights to which this was taken. An amalgam of two separate anime series, it is famous for being almost comically removed from the original. Perhaps most notably, instances of death were removed to conform with American television standards of the time. Simply looking at the list of changes made to the overall premise and storyline make a compelling argument for its existence as a unique cultural product.

Voltron – Before and After US Syndication

Click here to view the embedded video.

Fansubbing grew in direct opposition to such practices. With an awareness of the differences in the American product came with it a desire for an “authentic” view of Japanese animation. Fansubbing practices were thus initially geared to gain access to the unaltered forms of anime (González 2006). At the time, this was a labor of love, requiring specialized equipment and a commitment of both time and money to produce a single fansubbed VHS. Productions were thus rather simple and followed many of the conventions of professional subtitling.  As technology made it increasingly simple for a small group of individuals to produce high quality translations, however, variations began to arise heretofore unseen in the professional translation community as groups struggled with how best to approach the localization issue. How do you represent the social differences encoded in the Japanese honorific system? How do you deal with visual gags or cultural references which are inaccessible to the average American viewer? How do you make your subtitles part of the work itself as opposed to something obviously mediating? In response to such pressures, the following practices arose.

#1 The use of karaoke effects and non-serif fonts

#2-3  The use of on-screen translations of text visible in the shot; The inclusion of Japanese honorifics

#4  The use of translator notes and glosses

#5  The use of endnotes

What is particularly interesting about these practices is that they are in many ways more intrusive artistically than standard subtitling, often imposing themselves across the original work. What started as a movement away from heavily localized material has come full circle, albeit from a slightly different perspective. The material may not be localized to the American cultural context per se, yet it is undeniably the case that in the pursuit of “authentic” works and Japanese culture, fansubbers have created their own style of interfacing with foreign productions. Furthermore, this seems to be the direction mainstream subtitles are headed, much to the dismay of traditionalists. Already some official streaming providers such as Crunchyroll have material which mirrors fansubbing conventions—for example the use of honorifics which can be seen in some episodes of Soranowoto.

Additionally—albeit confined to the special features—meta-information in the form of a click-able capsule which appears during the film can be found on Akira DVDs in a manner reminiscent of fansubbed translators notes (Ortabasi 2006).

Does this detract from, rather than add to, the experience? Some seem to think so. Notably, Paul “Otaking” Johnson, felt strongly enough to produce the following documentary on what he viewed as the decline of fansubbing quality. While it should be noted that his presentation is biased, one-sided, and uses examples from only the worst the internet has to offer, he represents a strong stance against the fansubbing movement outlined above.

Anime Fansub Documentary - PART 2; PART 3; PART 4; PART 5

Click here to view the embedded video.

Where do you stand on the topic of localization? What is essential in transferring a work from one culture to another? When does cultural translation become full-fledged censorship? Finally, can fansubbing be viewed as a form of Orientalism?

Citations

Entry contributed by Nathan Revere

In 2002, Sara cut class on Halloween, got stuck in DC’s very typical, round-the-clock gridlock traffic, and showed up forty-five minutes late for the last showing of Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away in some dingy art house theater.

She went into the theater thinking it was going to be pretty, weird, and different.  She came out of the theater thinking all the same things; plus, she wanted to learn more about this ‘Japan’ country that made the phenomenal film.

That experience brings Sara to where she is today—an East Asian Studies major with hopes of studying abroad in Japan next year.  She still loves Miyazaki, and she still wants to learn everything she can about Japan.

Shannon loves the cute culture produced by Japan’s post-bubble society, and is planning a trip there soon where she will spend most of her time and money in the Harajuku District purchasing lots of tiny plastic objects covered in glitter.

• Single-space your article in Word.
• Instead of indenting the beginning of each paragraph, put a space between paragraphs.
• Check your post a few times to ensure that the formatting appears correct.
• Be aware that different browsers may show your post a little differently. If you can, check your post in Mozilla Firefox and Internet Explorer to be certain that your post isn’t full of visible stray html.

How to add links:

• Highlight the text that will become the link.
• A small box will pop up. Paste the web address of the link into the url field.
• Click “Insert.”

How to post a video:

• Copy and paste the web address into the post editor.
• Type a v after http, like so: httpv://www.youtube.com/videoaddress

How to post a music file:

• At the top of your post page there is a small music note. Click on it.
• You can now upload a file from your computer, a url, or from those already existing on the website (media library).

How to insert an image (the easy way):

• Save the image file to your computer.
• On the same line as the music note there is a small picture.  Click on it.
• A window will pop up. Click “Select File.”
• Find and select the image file.
• After the image uploads, scroll down in the same window and make adjustments to the image (alignment, size, etc).
• Click “Insert into post.”

How to insert a divider line:

• There doesn’t seem to be a way to insert this via the visual editor. Click on the html tab above the post editing field.
• Scroll to the very bottom of your post.
• Below the contents of the post, type <hr/>.
• Go back to the visual editor. Below the line, type “Entry contributed by [your name]” and link your name to your bio post. See my example below.

In summer 2009 I conducted research on young novelist Kanehara Hitomi and her books “Snakes and Earrings” and “Autofiction,” which display the Japan in which my generation matured — a recession-era Japan characterized by a contrast of excesses and minimalism.

Kanehara Hitomi.

I am also interested in kawaisa (cuteness). Like many Japanese and non-Japanese girls of my generation, I am drawn to that quintessentially kawaii cat Hello Kitty, and her entourage of adorable Sanrio friends. My favorite is Charmmy Kitty.

The best Sanrio character ever.

I am researching Japan’s environmental problems. In Japan, during the period of rapid financial growth following WWII, there was large-scale industrialization. Various factories were built, and so, the economy changed for the better. However, at the same time, the amount of environmental pollution in Japan also rose. At first, factory directors ignored the problem of environmental pollution. But, starting in the 1990s, environmental protection became an important part of Japanese society.

When I went to Japan, I immediately understood that environmental protection was an important aspect of society. For example, in the Japanese airport, places with trash cans all have five receptacles. That is different from airports in America. One trashcan was for paper, there was another for bottles, and yet another for glass. In the tiny kitchens of Japanese people, there are also 5 different trash receptacles. I went to Japan and did a home-stay, so now, I understand the importance of environmental protection to Japanese people. Therefore, I am researching Japan’s environmental problems.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Timeline:

• 1878-1912: Environmental pollution first becomes a concern with the modernization and industrialization associated with the Meiji period
• 1956: Drainage from chemical factory causes methyl mercury poisoning, or Minamata Disease
• 1967: Basic Law on Environmental Pollution Control
• 1971: Environment Agency established
• 1972: Nature Conservation Law passed
• 1992: Rio Summit- UN conference on environment and development
• 1993: Basic Environment Law enacted. Goal: assure good environment for future generations
• 1997: Kyoto Protocol- international environmental protection agreement made by UN
• 2001: Environment Agency is promoted to Ministry of the Environment- has more governmental influence
• Present: Current major issues include- global warming, preservation of the ozone layer, water and soil, waste management and recycling, conservation of the natural environment, and participation in international cooperation

Linkography:

Japanese Reaction to Global Warming

They say the earth is changing and becoming warmer right now. If we do nothing, the earth’s temperature will rise by 2 degrees by the year 2100. And, unfortunately, the water level of the sea will also rise by about 50 cm. Because of this, how to prevent warming has become a world-wide problem. Every year since 1992, international meetings have been held to discuss this problem. In 1997, Japan also had one of these types of meetings.

There are various causes for warming, but about 64% can be attributed to carbon dioxide. In a 1994 investigation, Japan was the world’s 4th largest contributor of carbon dioxide. And, from 1992-1994 in Japan, the amount of carbon dioxide rose 7%.

This increase in carbon dioxide was the reason that Japanese people changed their lifestyle. Before, refrigerators and televisions were widely used; people using ovens, dryers, and other types of electrical appliances were numerous. Moreover, at supermarkets and department stores, when people bought vegetables, fruits, meat or other such items, people wrapped them in plastic and put them in plastic bags. In reality, within our lives, it seems as if the carbon dioxide we give off is 45% of the total amount of pollution-causing carbon dioxide. In order to prevent warming, countries, factories, large companies and so on are not helpless. We must change our individual lives one-by-one in order to affect change. You may say it is convenient and comfortable (to continue on as we have been) but we should aim to not overuse cars and electric appliances. If we do not do this, we will not be able to protect the world.

A Brief History of Japanese Environment

• Article describing history of government involvement in environmental protection.
• 環境庁が環境保護の法律をした記事です。

Japan Environmental Problems

• Main environmental problems in Japan’s society
• 日本社会について、一番大切な環境問題。

World Environmental Problems

• Summary of basic environmental problems facing the world
• 地球の環境問題の要約。

Unlike other genres of music, the pop/idol music of Japan during this era was quite much dominated by the female artists; Artsit like Utada Hikaru (left), and Aiko gained universal pupolarity regardless age groups and genders.

With the fall of the inflated economy, Japanese rock saw a meteoric rise, an upswelling in popularity that visual kei accompanied. As witnessed in the States after the post-stagflation recession in the early 80s, rock music represented one of many avenues for people to channel their disillusion and discontent, either personally through the sound or vicariously through the subculture. In this context visual kei was essentially symbolism, representing many feelings: severance between one’s identity and the traditions of the past, honesty of expression in a society where pursuit of economic success had been a facade, the futility of social and artistic restraint, etc.

The picture here is of the guitar of former X Japan lead guitarist Matsumoto Hideto, better known by his stage name: hide. hide died in 1998, though whether by accident or suicide no one is certain. The shot was taken 9 years later at a show during X Japan’s resurgence, where the guitar occupied the same spot on stage that hide would’ve in the past. The lovingly decorated guitar speaks to the fact that visual kei was more of an idea than a fashion and that it was an entire avenue of expression for musicians and fans alike. Although visual kei no longer enjoys the mainstream popularity of the 90s, the idea endures in the underground scene, carrying the same ideas that inspired music since its inception.

Rock music in Japan began in the 1960s. With influences from bands like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, Japanese kayoukyoku evolved into rock. Although rock music has been in Japan for long time, during the post-bubble recession, its popularity suddenly skyrocketed. On top of that, during this period music in general made its way into various other media. For instance, music appeared as theme songs for anime and drama. Because of this, much of Japanese entertainment culture is affected by music.

To young people, music is a reflection of one’s own self. Thus, music is a part of many subcultures. For example, anime otaku listen to the theme songs of their favorite anime. Naturally, idol otaku will listen to their idol’s songs, and imitate their idol’s style. From migrant workers to hikikomori, everyone listens to music, thus making music so important to culture as a whole.

Click here to view the embedded video.

年表：

• 1960s – Inspired by Western acts such as the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, Group Sounds represented a confluence of genres, evolving Japanese kayoukyoku pop of the 50s into Japan’s first rock genre.
• 1967 – Public Company Oricon formed. Oricon provides information on the Japanese music industry, and its charts are a definitive measure of popularity.
• 1970s – Progressive rock movement moves away from original psychadelic rock movement.
• 1978 – Yellow Magic Orchestra formed, pioneering the electropop genre in Japanese that will later heavily influence modern Japanese pop and dance.
• 1980s – Japanese alternative and noise rock genres flourish. Japanese rock diverges into a myriad of styles including underground, punk, metal, and hardcore.
• 1982 – X Japan founded, pioneering visual kei and popularizing power metal.
• 1990s – Popular music sees rising use in other media such as film, anime, TV, drama, games, etc. Some bands that took root in the 80s achieve wild commercial success.
• 1997 – The first Fuji Rock Festival held. It is followed by the openings of several other rock festivals.
• 1999 – Glay holds a concert with 200,000 people in attendance: the largest ever in Japan.

External Links：

About the Fuji Rock Festival (Translation)

In order to traverse the premises one must walk. There are no cleanly maintained and paved roads. In fact, most sites are built on dirt or gravel. Naturally, if rain falls, the premises will be muddy. There are also no locations for everyone to take shelter from rain. Further, the throngs of guidance and information clerks that one may normally expect at concerts and events will not be present, nor will such guidance services. Many of the multiple stages will hold performances simultaneously, making it impossible to see everything. Furthermore, due to this and stage entrance regulation, sometimes one may not be able to see a preferred artist. There will be times when long lines for the portable toilets persist, and sometimes there will be no toilet paper. During congestion, going from the entrance gate to the Orange Court at the deepest part of the premises may take upwards of 30 minutes.

Naturally, live events are living things, so each stage may face its own speed-ups and delays, causing peoples’ schedules to collapse at times. Since over 200 artists are to perform in a period of 3 days, please consider that an anticipated performer may hurriedly cancel. Also, when the executive office comes upon difficulties in management and judgment, management rules may be revised regardless of announcement time and method. Of course we will exhaust the best of our efforts in order to prevent such messes as rule changes and cancellations, however should they occur, there will be no compensations such as ticket refunding.

For this festival we discard the notion of coming with the ideas of “Selfish Convenience” or “Leave it to Others” and instead hold together the ideas of “Do It Yourself”, “Cooperation”, and “Respect for Nature.”

Although this festival is far removed from the city lifestyle, in the middle of nature, away from everyday life, is a place where one can freely enjoy music in one’s own style. A riveting atmosphere and passion is here: one that can only be experienced by coming, and cannot be expressed by mere words.

Despite the minimal rules, during the festival we offer a place where everyone can enjoy the festival in whatever style they please. By combining everyone’s powers, let’s greatly enjoy the festival. Naturally, we of the staff have created and now offer this to you with all our belief in the power of music.

Oricon Style Homepage

• Japanese entertainment news, including rankings of CD albums and singles

X Japan Homepage

• Famous speed metal band

2009 Fuji Rock Festival Homepage

• This year’s Fuji Rock Festival

日本にはロック音楽が１９６０年代から始まりました。ビートルズやローリングストーンズなどのバンドの影響で日本の歌謡曲がロックに変えました。ロックが日本に長い間あったけど、不景気にロックの人気が突然に上がりました。その上、不景気に音楽が様々なメヂアに出て来ました。例えば、ポップ音楽がアニメやドラマのテーマソングになったことがありました。その理由で、日本のエンタメ文化が大分に音楽に関われました。

若者に就いて音楽が自分のことを映しているから、音楽は大勢なサブカルチャーな一部です。例えば、アニメおたくは好きなアニメのテーマソングを聞いています。もちろんアイドルのファンはアイドルの曲を聞いているし、スタイルも擬します。移動労働者からひきこもりまで皆が音楽を聞いているから、音楽がそんなにカルチャーに就いて重要です。

Click here to view the embedded video.

年表：

• １９６０年代　-　ビートルズやローリングストーンズなどの西洋音楽の影響でグループサウンズが１９５０年代の日本歌謡曲から生まれた。グループサウンズは日本の初ロックジャンルだった。
• １９６７年　－　株式会社オリコンが作った。オリコンは日本音楽のデータを集めて、チャートでバンドをランキングしている。
• １９７０年代　-　プログレシブロックの変革がuサイケデリックロックから離れた。
• １９７８年　-　YMOが作った。YMOの影響でエレクトロポップが人気なジャンルになった。
• １９８０年代　-　オルタナティブロックやノイズロックが人気なジャンルになった。それで、ロックの中に色んなジャンルがうまれた。たとえばハードコアやパンクやヘヴィメタルなどのジャンルが生まれた。
• １９８２年　－エックスジャパンが作った。エックスジャパンはヴィジュアル系の中で魁した。
• １９９０年代　－　ポップミュウジックがほかのメディアで使うことが増えた。そして１９８０年代生まれたバンドがもっと人気になった。
• １９９７年　－　フジロックフェスティバルが始まった。それ以外に、色んなほかのロックフェスティバルが後で始まった。
• １９９９年　－　GLAYのコンサートに二十万人が来た。それが日本の一番大きいなコンサートだった。

外部リンク：

フジロックフェスティバルに就いて

会場内の移動は徒歩です。きれいに整備された道等は無く、ほとんどの場所が土や砂利の上です。当然、雨が降れば会場内のいたる所がぬかるみます。来場者全員が雨宿りできる場所もありません。通常の「コンサート」や「イベント」の様に係員が大勢いて事細かに案内、誘導等をすることもありません。会場内にある複数のステージはほとんどが同時進行し、出演者を全て観ることも不可能ですし、ステージによっては入場規制がかかり、観たいアーティストが観れない場合もあります。会場内の仮設トイレは長時間並ぶこともあるし、紙が無くなる場合もあります。混雑している場合は入場ゲートから一番奥のオレンジコートまで30 分以上かかることもあります。

当然LIVEは生き物ですので各ステージの時間が早まったり、遅れたりして、皆さんが事前に立てたスケジュールが崩れてしまうこともあります。3日間で 200近いアーティストが出演することもあり、不慮のアクシデントにより、お目当ての出演者が急遽キャンセルになってしまう場合も考えられます。また、事務局が運営などに支障をきたすと判断した場合、その告知時期・方法に関わらず運営上のルールを変更する場合もございます。もちろん、この様なことが起こらないように最善の努力を尽くしますが、もしこの様なキャンセルや運営上のルール変更があってもチケットの払い戻し等の対応は一切行いません。

このフェスティバルに来場される方は「自分勝手」「他人任せ」という言葉は捨てていただき、「Do It Yourself」「助け合い」「自然を敬う」という心と共に来場していただきます。

こんな都会生活とかけ離れたフェスティバルではありますが、日常の生活から離れ、「大自然」の中、自由なスタイルで「音楽」を楽しめる場所がそこには存在します。この場所に来なければわからない、言葉には表せない素晴らしい空間と感動があります。

最低限のルールは存在しますが、このフェスティバルの期間中、皆さんが思い思いのスタイルでこのフェスティバルを楽しんでいただける場を提供いたします。皆さんで力を合わせ、このフェスティバルをおおいに楽しみましょう。もちろん、われわれスタッフ一同、音楽の力を信じて全力で創り上げていきます。

オリコンスタイルホームペイジ

• 日本エンタメニュース、それでCDシングルランキングとCDアルバムランキング

X Japan ホームペイジ

• 有名なスピードメタルバンド

2009フジロックフェスティバルホームペイジ

• 今年のフジロックフェスティバル

I’m studying essayist Junko Sakai’s best selling essay, Howl of the Loser Dogs. I became interested in Sakai’s work five years ago, when I read about her book in an American newspaper. In her book, Sakai uses the term “loser dog” or makeinu to describe women over 30 who are unmarried and don’t have any children. This is seen as unnatural in traditional Japanese society, which brings up women to believe that their greatest happiness lies in being married and raising children. However, nowadays in Japan more and more women are continuing to work into their 30s and delay marriage, or even refrain from getting married at all. Japan’s current “childless society,” a result of its near zero-growth birth rate, is often blamed on the country’s unmarried women. In her essay, Sakai criticizes these traditional ways of thinking about women. She believes that women can be happy even if they do not get married or raise children.

I want to see past the stereotypes commonly associated with Japanese women, and find out how they are truly living their lives. Women in today’s Japan are concerned with such issues as whether it is more important to focus on marriage or a career. As Japanese society gradually changes, so too will the standing of women in society change as well. Therefore, I believe that Sakai’s essay is a pertinent topic of interest for modern Japanese society, and for anyone interested in studying it.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Timeline

• 1966: Junko Sakai is born in Tokyo
• 1985: Japanese Equal Employment Opportunity Law is passed
• 2000: Sex and the City television show begins satellite broadcast in Japan
• 2003: Sakai’s Makeinu no Toboe (Howl of the Loser Dogs) essay is published in Japan
• 2004: The word “makeinu” becomes one of the top ten winners in the annual Japanese “Prize for New and Popular Words”
• 2005: Rika Kayama’s Kekkon ga Kowai (Marriage is Frightening) book is published in Japan
• 2008: Makeinu no Toboe television drama broadcast in Japan

Linkography

from Junko Sakai’s book Howl of the Loser Dogs (pgs. 193, 197):

There is a certain stock phrase that really stabs at the heart of any unmarried woman over 30 when she hears it. No matter how beautiful, smart, stylish, rich, or successful at her career she is, if a single woman hears someone utter, “You certainly can’t be very happy as a woman,” she is unable to come up with a response to this.

…

Single women are considered to be unhappy as women because they are not married, myself included. They are blind to the criticism that “they are unhappy as women,” and that’s why they remain single.

As for my current lifestyle, my job is fun and I have a lot of good friends. Since I get to eat the things I like, read the books I like, and go to my favorite places, I am first of all happy as a human being. However, I sort of understand that “happiness as a human being” seems like giving up on one’s “happiness as a woman” to the rest of the world for some reasons.

“Japanese Women Live, and Like It, On Their Own” (Washington Post, 2004)

Newspaper article about Junko Sakai’s Howl of the Loser Dogs and the increase of unmarried women in Japan
酒井順子の「負け犬の遠吠え」と日本に未婚女性の増について新聞の記事

” ‘Loser Dogs’ and ’Demon Hags’: Single Women in Japan and the Declining Birthrate ” (Oxford UP, 2006)

Review of Howl of the Loser Dogs that contrasts it with 2004′s Women who are Becoming Demon Hags
「負け犬の遠吠え」を批評して「鬼婆化する女達」（２００４年）と対比したエッセイ

酒井順子著作のページ

Japanese webpage about Sakai’s various published works, including Howl of the Loser Dogs
酒井のさまざまな著作について日本のページ、「負け犬の遠吠え」を含む

Entry Contributed by Megan Locke

エッセイスト酒井順子のベストセラー・エッセイ,『負け犬の遠吠え』, を研究しています。五年前に、私はアメリカの新聞にそのエッセイのことを読みました。酒井によると、「負け犬」の言葉は30代超・子供を持たない未婚女性という意味です。伝統的な日本の価値観は女の幸せは結婚と子育てによることですけど、現在の日本には結婚せずに、働き続いている女性が増えています。それに、現在の日本の少子化といわれている社会問題は日本の女性の所為だと言われています。酒井は伝統的な考え方を批判しています。日本の女性は結婚しなくても子供がいなくても幸せで生きられる意見を持っています。

日本の女性は生活に対するステレオタイプが多いのに、私は日本の女性の実生活について知りたいです。この頃は日本の女性は仕事と結婚とどちらの方が一番大切なことなどについて心配しています。日本の社会が段々変わっていきながら、女性の立場も変わっていくので、酒井のエッセイは日本社会にとって大事なトピックだと思います。

Click here to view the embedded video.

年表：「負け犬の遠吠え」

• １９６６年　（昭和４１年）順子酒井は東京に生まれる
• １９８５年　（昭和６０年）男女雇用機会均等法
• ２０００年　（平成１２年)「セックス・アンド・ザ・シティ」というドラマは日本で放映し始め られた。
• ２００３年　（平成１５年）酒井の「負け犬の遠吠え」というエッセイは刊行した
• ２００４年　（平成１６年）負け犬という言葉は新語・流行語大賞のトップテン入り
• ２００５年　（平成１７年）香山リカの「結婚がこわい」という本は刊行した
• ２００８年　（平成２０年）「負け犬の遠吠え」というドラマは日本で放映された

外部リンク

酒井順子の「負け犬の遠吠え」という本（ページ１９３、１９７）から

三十代以上の未婚女性を簡単に「殺す」ことができるフレーズが、存在ます。たとえどれほど美人で頭が良くてセンスが良くてお金持ちで仕事ができても、こう言われたら言い返すことができないであろうそのフレーズは、「あなたは、女として幸せではない」というもの。

．．．

私を含め、女として幸せではないとされる未婚女性は、自分が「女として不幸であるらしいこと」に鈍感です。というより、鈍感だからこそ未婚でい続けているのです。

今の生活において、仕事は楽しくて良い友は多く、好きなものを食べて好きな本を読んで好きな所へ行き．．．．．．と私は人間としてまず幸福なのだが、どうやら「人間としての幸福」は「女としての幸福」には負けるみたいだなぁということも、うっすらと理解できる。

“Japanese Women Live, and Like It, On Their Own” (Washington Post, 2004)

Newspaper article about Junko Sakai’s Howl of the Loser Dogs and the increase of unmarried women in Japan
酒井順子の「負け犬の遠吠え」と日本に未婚女性の増について新聞の記事

” ‘Loser Dogs’ and ‘Demon Hags’: Single Women in Japan and the Declining Birthrate ” (Oxford UP, 2006)

Review of Howl of the Loser Dogs that contrasts it with 2004′s Women who are Becoming Demon Hags
「負け犬の遠吠え」を批評して「鬼婆化する女達」（２００４年）と対比したエッセイ

酒井順子著作のページ

Japanese webpage about Sakai’s various published works, including Howl of the Loser Dogs
酒井のさまざまな著作について日本のページ、「負け犬の遠吠え」を含む

Entry Contributed by Megan Locke

I am studying the reasons behind the recent rise in bullying in Japanese middle schools. When I was in Japan, I participated in a home stay program and I had a host sister who was in her third year of middle school. About two or three times per week, she would come home with stories of bullying incidents at her school. At first I was not so surprised to hear that bullying occurs in Japanese schools because it is also a problem in America. I was alarmed when the stories continued without any word of consequences or resolutions.

One evening during dinner, I asked my host family why the schools do not do anything to fix this problem. My host sister responded that the school authorities do not have the power to do anything about it. I found this to be an odd answer so I decided to do a bit of research on my own. What I found was shocking. Bullying in Japanese schools is actually a problem that is rooted deep in Japanese society. Starting with these social problems, I would like to analyze why bullying in Japanese middle schools has become such a problem.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Timeline

• 30 October 1890: The Imperial Restrict on Education was issued, outlining post-shogunate goals for Japanese education including producing students who thought alike, acted alike, and had the same store of knowledge.

• Late 1800s- 1945: According to the Imperial Restrict on Education, Japanese students were educated in a strict system focusing on rote memorization, uniformity, and reverence to the Emperor and the Empire of Japan.,

• 1970s (post-war Japan): Students began to rebel against this education system by acting violently against fellow students, teachers, and school property.

• 1980s- 1990s: Japanese students who had been educated abroad began to return to Japan and became targets for bullying by both students and teachers alike for being inherently “different,” because of their foreign views and behavioral patterns.

• 1992-1996: The number of Ijime (bullying)-related arrests fluctuated at an alarming rate.

• 1998: The National Diet took action calling for reforms that would end “mind-numbing” and competitive examinations that students were required to take.

• November 2006: In the span of just 4 days, a string of 5 student suicides across Japan was reported; all cases were linked to bullying.

• Present: Abuse has taken the form of “Cyber Bullying” in an attempt to bring the bullying outside of school jurisdiction and hide it from the authorities. Methods such as text messages and internet bulletin boards are used to ridicule, torment, and harass students and teachers.

Linkography

“Sensei” a Mainichi Shimbun Editorial

Calls of complaint came on both Saturday and Sunday: “Students are smoking outside of my house.” As there were also reports of fireworks, people could not help but practice caution while wondering why their safety was in the hands of mere students. The vice-principal of the local middle school was beginning to become irritated.

Fukuoka Prefecture- middle school. The problems arose when in Spring 2007 a third-year male student transferred. Few sympathized with his situation. This is when the real trouble began.

After arriving to school late one morning, the student roamed the halls, kicking the walls and breaking glass.

“I’ll punch your face in, Ki-san!”

Upon hearing this, a teacher rushed to call the police who later arrested the student. Following the incident, the rest of the third years experienced a very hurried and sour graduation from middle school.

The Imperial Rescript on Education

• Issued in 1890
• １８９０年に作られた教育ニ関スル勅語です。

Japanese Education Since 1945

• A history of post-war Japanese education.
• 戦後の日本の教育の歴史です。

Cyber Bullying

• One of the recent methods that students are using to escape authorities.
• 最近、警察を避けるために生徒たちはこのいじめ方法を使っています。

2007 Statistics on the Knowledge of Bullying Occurring Between Japanese Children

• A site dedicated to making it known to the public just how serious bullying has become in Japan.
• このサイトはいじめがこん何重い問題になってきたサイトです。

Entry contributed by Sarah Taylor

最近、日本の中学校のいじめが増加してきた原因を研究している。日本にいた時、ホームステイをして、中学校の三年生のホーストの妹がいた。周に２、３回ぐらい彼女が学校のいじめの話をした。アメリカにもこの問題があるので、最初は、私はあまり真剣に聞かなかった。ところが、この話毎週続いていったので、私は少しびっくりした。

ある日、晩御飯の時、どうして学校がこの問題に対して何もしないかと聞くと、妹が何もできないと答えた。私にとって、これは不思議な答えだったから、自分で少しパソコンで調べた。色々なものを見つけて、いじめは確かに日本社会の大きな問題だとわかった。だから、この社会問題からはじめて、この中学校のいじめの問題を詳しく研究したいと思う。

Click here to view the embedded video.

年表：いじめ

• 明治２３年１０月３０日：幕末後の教育目的として、教育ニ関スル勅語という政策が作られ、日本の生徒たちが全部同じ教育をもらうのが始まった。

• 明治の初め～昭和２０年：教育ニ関スル勅語によって、日本の天皇と日本帝国を中心して、日本の生徒たちが厳しい制度で、棒暗記して、皆は同じの状態であろうとフォーカスした。

• 昭和４５年代：この教育制度に対して、生徒たちは激しい形で、ものすごく批判を始めた。

• 昭和５５年代～平成２年代：外国で教育された日本の生徒たちが日本へ帰って行くのを始めた。外国的な意見と経験があった日本人生徒たちは他の生徒たちや先生にいじめられた。

• 平成４年～平成８年：いじめに関して逮捕が非常に増加していった。

• 平成１０年：日本の国会が色々な必要な無意味な試験を止める改革を作った。

• 平成１８年１１月：４日間で５つのいじめに関して自殺のケースが記事された。

• 今日：警察や学校の先生を避けるために、テキストやサイトを使っている生徒たちが「サイバーいじめ」という方法を使えるようになってきた。

外部リンク

“Sensei” a Mainichi Shimbun Editorial

主民からの苦情電話は土曜日も日曜日もかかってきた。

「おたくの生徒がたばこ吸いよう」

花火をしている、と通報してくる人もいた。自分で注意せず、なぜ学校だけに頼るのか……。教頭（５６）は腹立たしくなる。

福岡県内の中学校。０７年春、地校で問題を起こした３年生男子が転校してきた後、数人が同調して問題行動をとり始めた。

遅刻して廊下を俳諧。壁をけ飛ばしガラスを割る。注意すると「きさん、くらすぞ（貴様、殴るぞ）」。眼鏡を地面にたたかつけられた教員もいる。教員が殴られて警察に通報し、逮捕された生徒も出た。嵐のような日々は、３年生が卒業すると’収まった。

The Imperial Rescript on Education

• Issued in 1890
• １８９０年に作られた教育ニ関スル勅語です。

Japanese Education Since 1945

• A history of post-war Japanese education.
• 戦後の日本の教育の歴史です。

Cyber Bullying

• One of the recent methods that students are using to escape authorities.
• 最近、警察を避けるために生徒たちはこのいじめ方法を使っています。

2007 Statistics on the Knowledge of Bullying Occurring Between Japanese Children

• A site dedicated to making it known to the public just how serious bullying has become in Japan.
• このサイトはいじめがこん何重い問題になってきたサイトです。

Entry Contributed by Sarah Taylor

From the establishment of the Japanese Baseball league in 1934, baseball has always been popular.  Even now, sumo is the Japanese national game, but watching baseball is more popular.  Each team has its own zealous fanbase and special cheers, so to Japanese baseball fans, baseball is not just a hobby, but a way of life.  The Japanese watch baseball as a sort of vent of emotions, so they can run away from problems of everyday life.  But, since the bursting of the Bubble Economy, professional baseball has begun to have its share of problems.  From the criticism of Japanese baseball players leaving for America to the dissolution of the Kintetsu Buffaloes and the 2004 players strike, Japanese professional sports have also seen problems appear that stem from the bad economic period.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Timeline

• 1872:  Introduction of baseball to Japan
• 1908:  First baseball game played against Major League Teams
• 1934:  Greater Japan Tokyo Baseball Club (present: Yomiuri Giants) established
• 1935:  Osaka Baseball Club (present: Hanshin Tigers) established
• 1936:  Japanese Baseball League Established
• 1950:  Nippon Professional Baseball (NPB) Established
• 1993:  Hideo Nomo’s departure to America
• September 18, 2004:  NPB Player’s Strike
• 2004:  Kintetsu Buffaloes dissolution

Linkography

Kintetsu Buffaloes History

Website about the (storied) history of the Osaka-based Kintetsu Buffaloes

What is the Cause of the First Strike in the History of Japanese Professional Baseball?

Website outlining the cause and possible solutions to the Japanese Professional Baseball Strike

From the site:

Q: What is the cause of the Professional Baseball Players Association strike?

A: The cause of the strike was the reduction of teams from 12 to 11 due to the merger of Orix and Kintestsu.  In essence, the team reduction was similar to company-internal restructuring, cutting the number of players by 8%.

Q: Is the Japanese Professional Baseball Players Association a labor union?

A: Professional baseball players are individual entrepreneurs, as opposed to company employees, but the labor union is recognized by the Tokyo High Court.  The foremost major different between this and ordinary labor unions is that all members are contract employees.

The second is the huge disparity in pay; there is no salary regulation.  Union members range from making millions of yen (tens of thousands of dollars) where even next year’s pay isn’t guaranteed, to those with multiple year contracts making several hundred million yen (millions of dollars) per year.

Japan’s First-Ever Player Strike

Article regarding the 2004 Nippon Professional Baseball Players Strike

The Ichiro Paradox

Article about Japanese baseball and its relationship to America and Major League Baseball

１９３４年に日本野球連盟の設立から、野球はずっと人気があります。今でも、相撲は日本の国技ですが、野球観戦の方が、人気があります。それ ぞれの球団は、熱狂しているファンがいるし、特別な応援とかあるから、プロ野球のファンには、野球が趣味だけじゃなくて、生きる道みたいなことです。日本 人 は、ストレスのはけ口として、野球の観戦をしますから、日常の問題から逃げられます。でも、バブル景気が終わってから、プロ野球は、いろんな問題を抱え始めまし た。アメリカに野球をしに行く日本人の選手への批難から、２００４年の近鉄バッファローズの解散とプロ野球の労働争議に、日本のプロスポーツも、不景気 による問題がたくさん出てきました。

Click here to view the embedded video.

年表：プロ野球

• １８７２年（明治５年）：日本に野球の導入
• １９０８年（明治４１年）：初めのメージャー戦
• １９３４年（昭和９年）：大日本東京野球倶楽部（現代の読売ジャイアンツ）の設立
• １９３５年（昭和１０年）：大阪野球倶楽部（現代の阪神タイガーズ）の設立
• １９３６年（昭和１１年）：日本野球連盟の設立
• １９５０年（昭和２５年）：プロ野球（NPB）の設立
• １９９３年（平成５年）：野茂英雄のアメリカへの出発
• ２００４年（平成１６年）９月１８日：NPBの労働争議
• ２００４年（平成１６年）：近鉄バファローズの解散

外部リンク

近鉄バファローズの球団歴史

元近鉄バファローズの球団歴史を表すウェブサイト

日本プロ野球史上初のストの原因は？新規参入球団は？　「猿でもわかる選手会ストQ&A」

日本プロ野球のストを説明するウェブサイト

Ｑ．プロ野球選手会のストの原因は何ですか？

Ａ．オリックスと近鉄の合併による球団削減で、チーム数が12→11に減ることへの反対運動です。球団削減の本質は企業内のリストラと同様で、選手の職場が８％減少します。

Ｑ．プロ野球選手会は労働組合なのですか？

Ａ．プロ野球選手は会社員ではない個人事業主ですが、東京高裁によって労働組合と認められています。一般の労働組合と大きく違う点は、まず第一に組合員全員がいわば契約社員的な立場であることでしょう。

第二は、組合員間での給与格差が大きく、統一的な給与規定もないことです。組合員には、下は来年の継続雇用すら無保障で年俸数百万円の人から、上は複数年契約で年俸数億円の人までいます。

Japanese Baseball Players Strike For First Time

英語でのプロ野球のストの説明

The Ichiro Paradox

プロ野球のアメリカとMLBとの関係

Since the Sarin Gas Attacks in March 20th 1995, shinshinshuko (“New New Religions”) have become a taboo among contemporary Japanese society. The mere mentioning of this term can quickly end a conversation. However, the post-war phenomenon of New Religions has, if anything, been exacerbated in the post-bubble climate.

I’m particularly interested in the development of “Happy Science” (kofuku no kagakaku). Founded in 1986 by Ryuho Okawa, Happy Science promises spiritual healing to the alienated and disillusioned middle-class. Happy Science is a fast growing religious organization whose leader has outspokenly declared himself a reincarnation God, Buddha, Jesus Christ  (to name a few). What separates this shinshinshuko from Aum Shinrikyo or Soka Gakkai, is the conservative right wing element to their organization. With the establishment of the “Happiness Realization Party” (kofukujitsukendo) just in this past summer, the organization’s militaristic and nationalistic elements should not be overlooked. Furthermore, as a student of East Asian studies, I believe it’s important to understand the cultural significance of “Happy Science” instead of simply labeling it a taboo.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Timeline

• 1860s: Bakumatsu period sees founding of Tenrikyo, Kurozumikyo, Oomoto
• 1946: Emperor Showa (Hirohito) announces Ningen-sengen (Humanity Declaration), revealing that he is not living god, ending State Shinto.
• 1956: Ryuho Okawa is born in Tokushima, Japan
• 1981: Through Grand Enlightenment, “El Cantare” (the syncretic idol of various religious disciplines) reveals to Ryuho Okawa the religious mission of Kofuku no Kagaku.
• 1984: Shoko Asahara forms Aum Shinrikyo in Japan.
• 1986: Kofuku no Kagaku forms.
• 1994: “Nostradamus’ Horrible Revelation” releases in Japanese theaters.
• 1995: Sarin Gas Attack in Japan by Shoko Asahara’s guidance.
• 1997: “Hermes’ Love is like the Wind” releases in Japanese theaters.
• 2000: “The Laws of the Sun” releases in Japanese theaters.
• 2003: “The Golden Laws” releases in Japanese theaters.
• 2006: “The Laws of Eternity” releases in Japanese theaters.
• 2008: Kofuku no Kagaku changes from a romanized name to “Happy Science” in Foreign Countries.
• 2009: The Happiness Realization Party is founded with Ryuho Okawa as Prime Minister elect. There are 32 main temples (shojas or shoshinkans) and 200 local branches across the Japanese mainland.

Linkography

From “the New Japanese National Constitution” by Ryuho Okawa, Leader and Founder of Happy Science and the Happiness Realization Party.

Preamble,

We the Japanese people—with the hearts of the gods and Buddhas, the aim of peace and prosperity on Earth in both Japan and the world, and with the sanctity as Nature’s, Buddha’s and God’s children as the foundation for humanity—hereby establish the New Japanese National Constitution.

…

Article III,

Under this administration, a National Referendum by the People will enforce the Presidential system. The President’s electoral process and term limitations shall be fixed by the law.

Article IV,

The President shall serve as the country’s sovereign leader as well as the Chief Executive of the Country’s National Defense. The President shall also have the political power to appoint and dismiss the Cabinet Minister.

Article V,

On behalf of the protection of our citizen’s right to life, security, and property, defense forces such as the Army, Navy, and Air Force shall be organized. Domestic order shall continue to be the responsibility of the police force.
…

Article VII,

In the event of a contradiction between the Executive and National Diet, the leader of the Supreme Court shall intermediate. If consensus cannot be reached within a fortnight, the President shall take precedence over matters.
…

Article X,

The opportunity to equality and liberty shall be extended to all citizens with respect to the Law.

“Happy Science” (Ryuho Okawa, IRH Press, 2009)

幸福の科学 公式ホームページ

Happy Science’s Homepage

“The Happiness Realization Party” (The Happiness Realization Party, 05/23/09)

幸福実現党
The Happiness Realization Party

“Happy Science of Japan Establishes a New Political Party, the Happiness Realization Party” (Happy Science USA, 07/23/2009)

幸福の科学を始めた公党「幸福実現党」
Their new party, the Happiness Realization Party.

Click here to view the embedded video.

日本の環境問題を研究しています。日本で高度成長期に、大規模な工業化がおこりました。いろんな工場が建たれたので経済が好転しました。しかしながら、同時に環境汚染も増えてきました。最初には工場の社長は環境汚染を無視したが、１９９０年代から、環境保護が日本社会の大切なことにたってきました。

私は日本に行った時、環境保護が重要な問題だとすぐ分かりました。たとえば、日本の空港の中でゴミ箱の所は五種類あります。それはアメリ